//------------------------------//
// Chapter Six: Where The Light Doesn't Touch 
// Story: Snowrunners 
// by Argonaut44 
//------------------------------//

In faint recesses of dinner table daydreams, Guardian would often find she was coming to be quite skillful at having conversations with herself inside her head. For there, inside her head, was the sole place she could feel the comfort of another pony’s interest while in her own home. Despite being surrounded by other ponies, her family no less, she often felt completely alone. 
She had heard the news that morning, having overheard a discussion between two of the school librarians while she was searching for a book to check out for the weekend. All day, it had been the talk of the school. There was a new princess in Equestria, the protege of Princess Celestia herself, Twilight Sparkle. 
Guardian was excited, she couldn’t help but feel prideful that she was alive to witness Equestrian history unfold right in front of her. 
“Do you think we’ll get more holidays?” asked one of Guardian’s friends, Amber Leaf, during their lunch period that day.
“We better,” Guardian had said.
“I doubt it. They’re not gonna let her really do anything for at least a few months, right?” asked another friend at their table, Coda, in the middle of stuffing her face with some cafeteria french fries.
“Do you think she’ll come here and visit us?” Amber asked. 
“She’s a princess, won’t she have more important stuff to do? Like stopping wars and junk?” Coda asked. 
“Yeah, cuz stuff like that happens all the time,” Guardian said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. 
“A visit wouldn’t be too much to ask! Remember, in fifth grade? When Princess Celestia came?” Amber asked. 
“If she does visit, next Thursday would be great, we’ve got a math test,” Coda said, laughing with food in her mouth. 
Right as Guardian finished off a red apple she had bought that morning at the market, the bell rang, signaling to the cafeteria of middle-school age ponies that it was time to return to class. 
“I’ll see you guys this weekend, at the parlor?” Coda asked, gathering her belongings. 
“Yeah,” said Guardian.
“Totally,” Amber replied, packing up her lunchbox. 
While Coda blissfully scooted off into the crowd, Amber stuck by Guardian, as the two of them had their next period writing class together. 
Trotting together down the hall, Amber waited a few moments until the crowd behind them began to declutter, before she could make her next proposition.
“Hey, Guardian...Uh, look, you know, you can come over tonight, if you need to,” Amber said. 
Guardian barely lifted her head up, trying to avoid the topic of conversation. 
“Thanks, but it’s ok.”
“Yeah, I know, but I just want to...well, y'know.”
“I came over twice this week already, Amber. That’s my limit. My dad will flip if I’m even a few seconds late today.”
“Ok...But all you have to do is stop by, it’s alright with my parents, they know what’s up.”
Guardian smiled, but only for a moment. She wished she could stay over that night, but when her father set a deadline, it was never a good idea to disobey it. 

Luckily, she wasn’t late that day, jogging her way home with a few minutes to spare. Nopony had come to greet her as she stumbled through the dark green doors of her well-sized house, though she hadn’t expected anything less. 
Dropping her backpack off on a bench near the door, she scurried up to her room, in an immediate attempt to isolate herself until dinner time. She had checked out a new book from the school library that day, and was quite eager to get started reading. Her social life, for the most part, only existed while she was at school. Weekends were spent doing chores and entertaining herself in her room. Luckily, she didn’t hate reading, which helped pass the time. 
Guardian’s room was unpainted, and noticeably lacking in furniture. Her bed was the same bed she had slept in since she was a toddler, and by her age then she was already definitely too big for it. She had gotten used to letting her back legs dangle off of the edge, though when that first started, she was deathly afraid that some monster would creep out from the dark and snatch her up. Her concerns were largely ignored, which unfortunately lent to the development of frequent nightmares and the occasional bedwetting, though she had mostly grown out of that. 
For hours, she sat in her wooden chair by the window, reading her book, waiting until she was to receive a knock on the door to alert her that dinner was ready. There were some days that the knock never came, and Guardian would just have to judge what time to head downstairs based on the strength of the aroma of that night’s dinner. After hours of reading up to halfway through her book, dinner came with a knock on the door that day, to Guardian’s relief. 

And that was where she was, at that dinner table, ruminating over whether she might have been able to convince her mom to let her sleep over with Amber that night, if she only made an effort. Her mother was despondent mostly, confined to the set roles that her husband had entrusted to her. 
Guardian was seated at one end of the table, and opposite to her was her father, Archangel, and between them to Guardian’s left was her mother, Hyacinth. Altogether they were eating in silence, the boorish, broad-shouldered stallion Archangel savagely tore into his meal while the other two quietly ate. Something was upsetting him, visibly, though both Guardian and the timid Hyacinth knew better than to prod. 
Guardian was shaken out of her daydreaming by the front door opening behind her, in stepping a young stallion, with a handsome face and a proper trimmed haircut. He was cyan in color, not unlike his younger sister, Guardian. His hair was a far darker blue than hers, though it would be clear to anypony’s eyes that the two were related. Immediately, Guardian began to light up, relieved that she had some extra familial support in the house. She said nothing, though, as she knew her father would prefer that he speak first. 
“There he is. Later than we’d like, but here nonetheless. C'mon, Chain, come and sit with us.” Archangel said, as soon as he recognized his son stepping through the door. His voice was steely, low, and smooth, and would make even the bravest of ponies grow nervous. Even for Chain Mail, Guardian’s older brother, the middle child of the family, Archangel’s intense demeanor could never be gotten used to. Guardian frowned to herself, in the face of Archangel’s blatant hypocrisy in tolerance for lateness between her and Chain Mail.   
Chain Mail laughed away his nervousness and dumped off his belongings on the same bench Guardian had, sauntering over to the dinner table in the kitchen with a good-natured smile. 
“Hey dad, mom,” he said, pausing as he walked past Guardian.
“Hey troublemaker, how was school?” he asked, gently kicked the leg of her chair to alert her he was right next to her.  He grabbed a hoofful of her mane and trussed it up, sending her into a giggling fit. 
Before Guardian could answer, Archangel interjected with a hacking fit of powerful coughs from the back of his throat, as if to reassert his dominance over the conversation.
“Sit down. Go on,” Archangel said, sternly, as if Chain Mail had offended him in some way.  
Chain Mail immediately shut his trap and took his seat opposite to his mother, the family now altogether. Guardian avoided making eye contact with anypony at the dinner table, knowing she would probably just cause trouble with her very presence. 
“Well, have you heard what they’ve done?” Archangel asked, while Chain Mail began setting his plate. Hyacinth had made some delicious mashed potatoes and vegetable stir fry that day, a meal that was a unanimous family favorite. 
“You mean the newest Princess? I have, yes,” Chain Mail replied, though he’d rather not discuss the topic further with his father. 
“It’s a disgrace, it is. Listen here, Chain, if any of your friends come in here saying anything at all that validates that no-name unicorn’s pretend rank, I won’t have you bring another pony in this house ever again.” Archangel said, as if he was delivering a threat.
“Understood,” Chain Mail said, softly sighing and pouring himself a glass of water. 
“Twilight Sparkle...I’ve never heard of her. These are the ponies they want our kids looking up to? She’s never served in any facility of the government in the slightest. What jurisdiction could they possibly give her? Nothing. This is all performative. And it’s got my blood boiling. Hardworking ponies spend all their lives working towards building their ranks, and this random unicorn from Ponyville of all places gets put at the highest level for nothing,” Archangel said, clenching his jaw furiously, "Pampered little lowland bitch."
“I heard she’s very talented with magic, and she was something of a student to Celestia, I think that had something to do with it,” Chain Mail said. He didn’t have any real problem with Twilight Sparkle’s promotion to princess status, though he made an effort not to make any direct challenge to Archangel’s opinion. 
“Magic! Bah! Magic doesn’t make you any more capable than anypony else. Haven’t I taught you that, boy? Thinking like that, it only divides us! I had a friend at Hardgrove...have I told this story before?”
“Yes, but go on,” Chain Mail said, not having heard enough details to recall. 
“I didn't ask for your leave, boy. Now, Hardgrove, he was a unicorn, and he thought like what you said, that unicorns were superior to pegasi and earth ponies. And you know what we did? We-” Archangel began, before stopping abruptly, after catching Guardian yawning silently from across the table. 
Guardian was still staring at her food while she picked at it with her fork, not aware that Archangel was staring directly at her until she noticed his unprecedented silence.
She nervously put her front legs back under the table, having no idea why he was staring at her. But by the look in his eyes, he was definitely angry. 
“Dinner's done now. Chain, take your mother upstairs,” Archangel said, his mouth tight with rage. 
“Dad, it was just a-” Chain Mail began, before Archangel’s red hot glare swiveled into his direction.
Chain Mail held off from challenging his father, as much as he’d have liked to. 
He, and Hyacinth alongside him, complied with Archangel’s command, nervously standing up from their chairs and walking into a different room. Guardian wanted to ask them both for help, though knew she’d be better off to keep her mouth shut for the time being. 
There was a brief silence, tediously awkward as Guardian was still oblivious to what she had done wrong. 
“Stand up," he said.
Guardian felt like throwing up out of fear, rising from her chair and stepping away from the kitchen table. Archangel too rose from his seat, his hulking figure towering over a small, still-adolescent Guardian.
“Am I boring you?” he asked, bitterly. 
“No sir,” Guardian replied, instantly, though she still had no idea what he meant. 
He bent down to meet her at eye level, staring deep into her soft orange eyes. Guardian restrained herself from flinching, while Archangel’s hard, piercing gaze shot straight through her. 
“You have your mother's insolence. I've told you before. Your brothers both grew out of it by your age. But you seem incapable of doing that. Hm? Is that what you are? Incapable?"
"No, sir," Guardian replied, her voice quivering, "I didn't mean to be disrespectful."
"I don't care what you meant," Archangel snapped, "I wouldn't waste time imagining all the horrible thoughts you harbor against me, your mother, your teachers, everypony who you think doesn't know better. But they do. You are an immature, arrogant girl, who lacks any sense of discipline or respect."
Guardian bit her lip, forcing herself to keep her face still like stone.
Archangel snorted.
"Ah, look at you go. You think you’re tough, do you? Really?” he asked.
Guardian had no idea what to answer with, opening her mouth out of instinct, but without any words to speak. 
“You’re never going to learn, apparently,” Archangel said, sighing in disappointment, "I wish I could somehow prove that you are not mine. If not for that coat and those eyes, I'd have done it already."
"I'm your daughter," Guardian said, plainly. She saw the words spill out of her mouth, and desperately wished she could retrieve them somehow, bury them back in her throat again.
Archangel's hoof came so quickly, Guardian had not even seen it. She only felt the sting against her cheek. She nearly fell of her hooves, before straightening herself up.
"You think I want to be reminded of that? Hm?" Archangel snorted, "If you were born a boy, you'd be an even greater disgrace, I expect. You'd like that though, wouldn't you?"
Guardian's lips were quivering again, terrified of what he expected her to say.
"You see your brothers train with sword and shield, you see my brothers and their sons serve in the army, the navy, the rangers. And you want to be like them. Don't you?"
"Yes sir," Guardian said, proudly. She was not sure what he was getting at. That was all she had ever wanted, in truth, to follow her brothers, to be just like them.
Archangel shook his head.
"Your place is where I say it is. What good is a girl like you, but to stay pretty and give some sons to a worthy stallion? Your mother doesn't aspire for the things that don't concern her. And neither should you."
"I'm not my mother."
Another smack came quicker than the first, and by now Guardian's face was a deeper blue from the bruises. 
"No. No, you might be worse."
Guardian said nothing, her eyes batting back and forth slowly from the ground to Archangel’s gaze, her head hung low with fear.
“You’re cleaning the toilets on both floors tonight. You’re sleeping in the closet bed. At your age I shouldn’t still have to be teaching you what respect is,” Archangel said. There was a brief pause, in which Guardian wasn’t sure she was yet to be dismissed. 
“Go on, you’ll get to eat the rest of your food if I think you’ve done a good job. Is that understood?” Archangel said, motioning with his hoof for her to head back up the stairs. 
“Yes sir,” Guardian mumbled, turning around and heading towards the stairs,  another dinner ruined for her by unknown causations.

Years later, the memory of that dinner in particular was dancing around Guardian’s mind, right up until she woke up that morning. Guardian had taken first watch that night, despite Silver’s concerns that Guardian would fall asleep again. She proved to be more responsible than last time, though, and the night went relatively swimmingly for the two ponies, after a rather eventful past few days. 
Wiping off some drool from her cheek with the cloth of her sleeping bag, Guardian rose and stuck her head inside her helmet, regathering her things and stepping out of the tent to find Silver. 
She had always tried her best to avoid thinking back on her childhood memories, as most of them were corrupted by the overwhelming sourness of her father’s resentment towards her. Though, in her dreams, the lingering pain and discomfort of those days seems to never leave her be. Despite her constant efforts throughout her life to prove she was capable, and good, and a hero even, nopony ever seemed to notice, and nopony ever seemed to care. She wondered if she was being arrogant, to want to be viewed like a good moral pony, or a hero, but she supposed that was just her insecurities talking. 
Silver was awake outside the tent, sitting on one of the logs beside the dying campfire, her eyes barely opened as she came close to falling asleep. 
Guardian smiled and gently kicked at Silver, startling her alert. 
“Come on, wake up. A day more or two, and we’re there,” Guardian promised, extending her hoof down for Silver to grab a hold of and be lifted up. Silver yawned and smiled, using Guardian to pull herself up to her hooves. 
Silver shook her head back and forth to wake herself up after nearly dozing off. She remembered life before she joined the army, when she could sleep in until ten o’clock a.m, and go straight to lunch instead of breakfast. 

After taking down their tent, gathering their things, and trying their best to erase any signs of their presence in the clearing, Guardian and Silver set off once more, both feeling a bit more optimistic about their chances.   
“How’d you sleep?” Silver asked, adjusting the strap of her bag around her shoulder, as the duo re-entered the forest.  
“Alright,” Guardian said, ignoring the unpleasant dreams of her childhood, “You?”
“Pretty good, until you woke me up in the middle of the night.”
“Sorry, I wanted to sleep too,” Guardian said, both of them laughing, finding some comfort in each other after more than enough heartache over the course of their journey. 
In spite of her attempts to be amicable with Guardian, Silver couldn’t shake the growing uneasiness festering inside her. All things considered, this place wanted them dead, and the longer Silver drew breath, the more anxious she became of just how soon the cold embrace would finally catch up to her. She couldn’t outlast the forest, and she knew it. She was out of sorts, and even Guardian could notice her nervous twitching and constant glancing behind her shoulders back and forth. Guardian, despite her concerns for Silver’s mental stability, said nothing, too exhausted to potentially ignite another argument. 
Silver was still a little irritated with Guardian for keeping their former rebel captive Sundance captive, and then setting him free. Killing him outright would have been a far safer option, in Silver’s mind, though she also wanted to avoid forming a rift between her and Guardian.  

Over the course of that day, they were both delighted to come across very few obstacles. Nopony in sight for hours on end, coupled with relatively calm weather, as the storm from yesterday had largely dissipated. Though, a new one seemed to be reforging itself over the mountains behind them. Streaks of wind rustled through the leaves, that brushed back and forth in great rattling waves. And below were Guardian and Silver, both worn down to a weak pace after days of on-hoof traveling. Guardian was already dreaming of getting some sort of spa treatment for herself when she was to escape the forest, to hopefully make up for the withered treatment she had already endured. The sky was a bleak grey seated above the swaying trees, and on ground level were slivers of run-off rainwater, pooling along dirt roads and beside great rocks. Through the woods, the ponies encountered a familiar stillness, one that had both of them on the tips of their hooves.  
Guardian kept her eyes straight forward, focusing on trying to quicken their pace and avoiding being distracted by anything. 
Silver was far more sporadic with her movements, ranging from dragging far behind to walking just a few inches from Guardian’s back hooves. Her mind was racing with thoughts of a sudden ambush, as if any moment the forest itself would come alive and attack them. But there was nothing but wind, snow, and trees, just like there had been the whole time. Nothing out of the ordinary, up until Silver was caught off guard by a familiar sight. 
A pair of tiny fluorescent blue wings, bouncing up and down through the sky without a care towards her. It was the butterfly, which Silver was amazed to see must have followed her all the way over the mountain range. Silver smiled at it, right until it ran right into her face, dancing around her head and flying off. She stifled a gleeful giggle with what she considered to be a friendly gesture. And off the creature went, possibly the only good thing that lived in the dreadful mountain passage. 

After a day of staggered journeying, the sun began to set beneath the cloudcast sky, and the weather seemed to worsen as night approached. Light flurries of snow sprinkled down , first in offset patterns, and then gradually upgrading into a steady descent. 
The way the duo were headed was towards the river, the last major obstacle they were aware of that remained in their path. On the other side of the river, just a few miles down, was the position of the 19th Battalion, whose lives were held solely in Guardian and Silver’s hooves. 
In that direction, they saw the terrain begin to descend downwards, between two ridges that gradually extended into steep cliffs. 
“Straight towards the river, right?” Silver asked, after the two ponies had stopped right when the path downwards really began to separate from the ridges on either side. 
“We don’t have time to go around these rocks, it could take us a whole ‘nother day,” Guardian said. 
“What about that town the rebel was talking about?” Silver asked. 
Guardian shrugged. Time had yet to be on their side, and though there were dangers ahead, Guardian couldn’t figure any time-wasting alternative would be much better. The town that lay ahead of them, however, hidden somewhere in the forests beyond, remained a concern for both ponies. 
“We’ll go around. Obviously we’re not gonna walk right through. If the ponies are friendly, we may even be able to use one of their boats to cross the river,” Guardian said. 
“Uh-huh. And what if they’re not friendly?” Silver said, believing her scenario to be far more likely. 
“Then we’ll use one of their boats...just maybe without permission,” Guardian said, smirking. 
Silver was more convinced, and the duo resumed their march down the descending hill.

Through the forest, they eventually caught sight of smoke rising over the treeline in the distance.
“I can hear the river,” Silver said, listening closely to the distant sound of rushing waters. 
“Be careful…” Guardian whispered, cautiously stepping closer. 
Without realizing it, Guardian had led them straight to the edge of a short ridge covered in dead leaves. The ridge had trees surrounding the edge, acting as a natural barrier against what lay beneath. The leaf-covered, flat rock ridge happened to be perched above a small basin that was seated far below. And in that basin was a settlement, a small town, presumably the same town Sundance had warned Guardian of yesterday
“That’s it?” Guardian asked, skeptically. The town appeared to consist mostly of wooden buildings, now covered in snow and illuminated by the warm orange glow of candlelight hung from doorpost to doorpost. There were a few ponies in the streets, though it seemed most of the town was inside their homes, possibly all asleep. The sun had practically set now, and night was nearly upon them. Warm lights hung along the walls of most buildings, illuminating the town in its shadowy basin. 
“Well?” Silver said.
Guardian hadn’t heard Silver, as she was too engrossed in her study of the settlement below. There were wooden barricades up near the entrances on the south-end and north-end, and the streets were suspiciously empty. Every home had its lights turned off, and by the very demeanor of the place, it seemed to have already been seized by despair. Without knowing many details, Guardian was already beginning to feel her nerves tighten. 
“We go around, right?” Silver asked, motioning with her head for them to continue the way they were ahead, which would effectively take them right around the town basin to the river, that was closer north than either of them realized. Ahead of the town was an uneven grassy field that led to the river, which was their proper destination. 
“Something’s wrong...Look at those things down there, there’s spikes on them, and barbed wire, and...Oh Celestia, is that-?” Guardian said, gasping and clamping her hoof around her mouth, at the sight of what she believed to be a pony strung up on a wooden fixture near the battlements below. She practically threw up into her hoof, at the sight of a pony held up by ropes, their skin blackened by fire, their body mangled and charred. 
Silver was very close to snapping at Guardian, until she saw the burn victim’s corpse too, hung up on the town battlements like a decoration. Silver’s eyes widened with fright, as she took in the grizzly scene on display below. She felt a pulse of disorienting anxiety swarm through her mind, and she could hear voices that weren’t really there, screaming in agony, as if she was subconsciously imagining what sounds the poor dead pony below had been making before they had succumbed.
Silver forcibly lowered her head so that she didn’t have to look any longer, and was frozen in place, feeling the powerful existential dread of the forest throttle her by the heart. In the ashes of that pony’s corpse she could see her own face, and she understood her fate could very well be the same, should she stay any longer. 
“We need to get the hell out of here,” Silver said, frantically.
“But...There could be ponies down there, who need our help,” Guardian said. 
“Guardian!” Silver exclaimed, her voice squeaking as her fear of death tore her apart internally, “We need to leave.”
Guardian hesitated, though she knew Silver was probably right. But before they could even turn around, both ponies jumped alert, at the sound of a twig snapping behind them in the forest brush.
Guardian and Silver spun around with their spear drawn and horn glowing respectively, preparing to kill whoever was sneaking around behind them.
“Wait! Don’t! I don’t have anything!” whispered the silhouette of a pony a few yards in front of them. 
Guardian glanced at Silver to go investigate. The unicorn aggressively rushed towards the pony, brightening her horn to get a good look at the pony who had snuck up on them. He wasn’t wearing armor of any sort, in fact he looked rather homely, with receding fuzzy brown hair, a soft blue coat, circular glasses that hung low on his nose, and a short fuzzy brown beard. 
“Please, I’m unarmed,” he explained, hoping Silver wouldn’t be too loose with her blazing horn pointed right at his head. 
Silver paused, and then slowly backed away, reluctantly concluding that he was not, in fact, a rebel soldier.
“Who are you?” Guardian demanded.
“...I’m-I’m Buckwheat. Please, I don’t mean any trouble at all,” he said, terrified. 
“What are you doing out here?” Silver asked, aggressively. 
“I was gathering firewood, is all, I swear it!” he said, dropping a few small logs from atop his back. 
Guardian seemed to find his alibi reasonable, lowering her spear. 
“You’re...You’re both royal soldiers, aren’t you?!” Buckwheat stammered, as if he had just seen a pair of ghosts.
“Yes, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you, we didn’t know who you were,” Guardian said.
“You shouldn’t be here, anywhere near here, it’s much too dangerous!” Buckwheat said, glancing behind his shoulder to see whether anypony was witnessing their confrontation.
“Why’s that?” Silver asked, though she was already fairly sure that the rebels were involved somehow. 
“That’s my town there, Pine Hearth, there’s been a battalion of rebel soldiers that have set themselves up for almost a week now! They leave during the day, but they’ll be back soon, the sun is setting!”
“Pine Hearth?” Guardian asked, recognizing the name from somewhere.
“Colonel warned us about this place,” Silver said, smiling in horrified disbelief, “He warned us!” she yelled, her eyes darting around the forest like mad, backing up towards the edge of the ridge as if expecting an attack any second. Then she stopped herself, her mind recoiling with a bitter revelation. “That lousy rebel rat was leading us to a trap.”
Guardian had already realized it, and was immensely disappointed to see that all evidence pointed to Silver being right, that Sundance had been intentionally leading them straight into a rebel occupation.
“Ok, we should get out of here,” Guardian said, glancing to the sky to confirm they were running out of daylight. Though she did want to help Buckwheat and any other townsponies trapped in the town below, she wouldn’t be able to do much against a battalion or more of rebel soldiers. 
“We need a ferry to get across the river,” Silver said, hoping Buckwheat could help them.
“No! No, you can’t! There won’t be time, they’ll be here any moment! They leave during the day and return at night! They’ll come by land and the river, they separate!” Buckwheat said. 
“What would you have us do then?” Guardian said, hoping Buckwheat had more to offer than just bad news. 
The stallion hesitated, though they were all thinking the same thing.
“I...I suppose I can help you. Hide you, I mean, in my cellar. We must go now, though, and nopony can know.”
“Will we have to pass through any guards?” Silver asked. 
“No, not until the sun sets, there’s not many of them down there now, come, come quickly!” Buckwheat said, rushing them along behind him as he jogged down the hill towards the main road path that led into the town. 

Stepping over tan stalks of wheat and dead grass, Buckwheat led Silver and Guardian out from the forest brush and down a steep hill onto the dirt road below, cautiously approaching the town of Pine Hearth up ahead. The old stallion had received help from Guardian and silver with recollecting his firewood, all of them now trotting together down the dirt road towards the town gate. Their hooves crumpled the snow, leaving prints behind, of which Guardian feared might be found as suspicious. 
The south-end gate of the city was made of wood, built right along the battlements that surrounded the city. Guardian and Silver tried their best to ignore the burnt corpse they had seen, which was still tied to one of the fixtures. Guardian saw Buckwheat seemed to have not even noticed the dead pony, and wondered how many other horrible sights he and the other townsponies had already been exposed to. 
Guardian nervously watched for any rebel soldiers seated above on the gate battlements, though it seemed to be empty. 
“I told you, they all go out, they’re not afraid of any attacks out here…” Buckwheat muttered, noticing Guardian’s nervousness. 
“But they’ll be here soon. We don’t have much time, they’ll be upon us,” Buckwheat said, trotting straight through the opened gate of the town, entering its interior. 
There were only three major streets in the town, which contained roughly forty homes at most. Guardian and Silver stuck close behind Buckwheat, as they all crept through the snowy, seemingly abandoned town. 
“Where is everypony?” Silver asked, terrified of what the answer would be. 
“The curfew is soon, it’s not wise to be out this late. But the wood’s just dried, I had to get what I could before the snow ruined it all again,” Buckwheat explained, content with his work, “Rebs would want it for themselves, I suspect. But they have machines that do the work for them, and here I have to search the woods here and back, all for warmth.”   
Buckwheat led them down one street and around one building, careful to avoid letting anypony spot them from the windows of their homes. 
“You musn’t trust anypony but me for now. I know many who would turn you in without second thought, do you understand that?” Buckwheat asked. 
“Yes,” Guardian replied, her fears beginning to twirl about inside her heart, as her body shivered from the cold.  
Behind one of the corner street houses, Buckwheat came to a stop, indicating that they had reached his home. Behind the house was a large storm shelter hideaway, with two large wooden doors, bolted shut with a small metal rod. After some fiddling with a ring of keys tied around his belt, Buckwheat unfastened the lock and raised up one of the doors, grunting with the weight against his aged muscles. 
“I’m not sure how long I can shelter you, but for tonight, I think you’ll be safe,” Buckwheat said, nodding for them to enter inside. 
Guardian glanced at Silver, both still nervous about this entire situation. 
Their concerns were swept aside at the distant sound of some rowdy pack of ponies approaching from afar, carrying bright torches and leaving behind trails of spilt booze. Through the trees, Silver could spy the flickering orange light of the flames carried by the approaching ponies in the distance, twinkling like stars hovering above the ground. 
“They’re coming! For Celestia’s sake, hide yourselves!” Buckwheat said, still whispering. 
Guardian decided he was right, and it was better not to risk being caught. She climbed inside first, walking down a short staircase to enter the cellar below. Silver quickly followed, turning around just as Buckwheat shut the door behind them, leaving them alone inside. 
Once the storm shelter doors were locked shut from the outside, the ponies found themselves in pitch black darkness. 
Until, a light began to illuminate from Silver’s horn, revealing the full extent of the cellar inside. It mostly contained barrels of stored food and some tools, nothing that stood out in particular. The cellar was dark and dusty, Guardian having to force herself not to fall into a coughing fit. Despite Guardian believing she had already gone numb from the cold outside, inside the cellar the temperature seemed to be at least ten degrees less than outside. The cellar was made of thick stone stacked beneath ground level, the wooden roof above them rumbling with the sound of galloping hooves. 
“That’s got to be at least an entire company!” Silver whispered, shocked as the hooves stomped overhead. 
Guardian could feel herself beginning to panic, remembering that they only had two more days before it was too late to rescue the ponies in the 19th. 
“I told you the rebel was lying to us! We should’ve taken a different route!” Silver said, hoping she would get to meet Sundance again, if only to finally kill him once and for all.
Guardian couldn’t help but laugh, unable to believe Silver’s double standards. 
“If we stuck to the creek like Colonel ordered us to, we wouldn’t be here at all!” Guardian said, also trying her best to keep her voice down. 
“Well this is just great. We’re surrounded, and now we’re trapped in this freezing basement! Do you know how bad of an idea it is to try and fight in a basement? And gosh, it’s cold! Does that pony not have a heater or anything?” Silver whined. 
Both ponies jumped alert when the door behind them opened, in stepping Buckwheat, holding a lantern in one hoof. Behind him was a staircase that led upwards, presumably to the proper interior of his home. 
“I apologize for the cold...I’d invite you inside, but those rebels occasionally do inspections…” Buckwheat said.
“And what? They inspect everywhere but in here? Let us inside, just for a moment,” Silver said, approaching the door. Buckwheat, however, didn’t budge. His face was strained, having just a few moments ago realized the gravity of his actions.
“You must understand...I have a wife, I have children...They’re just over there, I’ve already told them what I’ve done. It’s far too much of a risk to have you some place where you could be seen through a window, or something. Please bear with me, I want to help you as much as I can,” Buckwheat said, hoping they wouldn’t push his hospitality. 
“And we’re very grateful for any help you can give us. We’ll be fine here. Right, Silver?” Guardian said, nudging Silver with her leg.
“Right.” Silver said, though she would much rather be inside the warm house. 
“Let me get you something to eat, and drink, you must be desperate for something, I can’t imagine what it’s like out there. And that storm!” Buckwheat said.
“That would be great, thank you,” Guardian said, overwhelmed by relief. When Halo had told her he and his troops would be the only friendly faces they’d ever see in the passage, she had believed him. But to see that there were still ponies, civilians no less, who still held sympathy for the royals, was a breath of fresh air after many days of increasing hopelessness. 
Buckwheat left the lantern atop a small table sitting by the door, and retreated back into his home, leaving the door slightly ajar. 
“Are you sure we can trust him? What if he’s giving us poison?” Silver asked, as soon as she believed Buckwheat to be out of earshot. 
“He’s not giving us poison. He’s just a civilian, he lives here. And clearly, he wants to help us. Only you would complain about help,” Guardian said, rolling her eyes. 
“Lives here, right. Need I remind you this is a rebel town,” Silver said. 
“Rebel occupied town. Most of these ponies probably want to get out of here, but can’t...Look, just relax, we’re alright for now,” Guardian said. Silver shook her head, strongly disapproving of Guardian’s inclination to trust everypony they met, especially given recent events with Sundance. 
“Here you go,” said Buckwheat, carrying in a tray of steaming hot coffee for the two of them. 
“Thank you, you’re very kind,” Guardian said, graciously accepting the cup of coffee after Buckwheat had set it down on the table near the door, right beside the lantern. Flakes of dust could be seen floating through the air in the light of the lantern, which offered the only warmth either Silver or Guardian could find inside the cellar. 
“Hello,” said another pony, a mare, also slightly aged the same as Buckwheat, cautiously trotting down the stairs into the cellar. She was carrying a small tray of brownies, setting them down on the table next to the coffee. 
“I made this for the kids, but I suppose you must need it more,” the mare said, backing away from the table. She had a head of curly dark magenta hair, a coat of very pale cream, and a lovely little smile that made Guardian feel more at ease. Buckwheat’s head bobbed between his wife and the two soldiers, nervous about making introductions. He was on edge, after all, given the risks he was now running on.
“This is my wife, Honey Pie,” Buckwheat said, stepping out of the way for the ponies to formally meet. 
“Hello, thank you for what you’re doing,” Guardian said, eagerly shaking the bewildered mare’s hoof. 
“It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen royal soldiers not in chains around here. I think you’re both very brave, for being out here,” Honey Pie said. Her voice was smooth, motherly, and gentle, and even Silver, whose anxiety was blistering, began to calm down.  
“Darling, be a dear and excuse us for a moment, would you?” Buckwheat said, calmly eyeing the door. Honey Pie’s smile faded, though she didn’t protest, awkwardly leaving the room. She headed back up the stairs, quietly, leaving the other three below in the cellar. 
Buckwheat closed the door behind her, and locked it, before taking his seat at the small table, opposite to the two soldiers. 
“I only don’t want her to have to participate in these sorts of discussions. It’s for the better,” Buckwheat said, at a lower decibel than before. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and received a dark wooden pipe, promptly lighting a match and lighting it up. 
While Silver and Guardian hungrily chewed on Honey pie’s brownies and drank the hot coffee, Buckwheat huffed at his pipe, trying his best to calm his nerves. 
“There have been rumors about you two. Circulating around here,” Buckwheat said, before sticking the pipe back in his mouth.
“All good, I hope,” said Guardian, cheekily. 
“The soldiers, they’ve been talking. Rebel soldiers, I mean. Though they don’t like to be called that. You learn that by ear or else the hard way…” Buckwheat said, trailing off before remembering what he had intended to proceed with. 
“Talking of two royal ponies, traversing through the passage, destroying every rebel unit they came across...These rebels, they found bodies by Carpendale, they found bodies by the southern road, they found bodies near Crocket’s old cabin on the mountain...this was all you?”
Silver and Guardian shared a nervous glance, not having realized the rebels were aware of all their recent exploits. 
“Yes,” Silver said.
“Yes, then they know about you. Pegasi patrols, from the Airborne Brigade stationed here, they spotted you, twice I believe, some days ago.”
Guardian felt herself shudder, having originally believed they had hidden themselves from those pegasi both times. 
“It’s very dangerous for you to be here. The rebs, they’re all riled up, they’re angry. You’ve killed many of their friends. If they catch you…” Buckwheat said, letting them fill in the blank.
Guardian and Silver weren’t sure what to say, slowly coming to the conclusion that their mission’s chances of success were running slim.
“That’s why I stopped you, and brought you here. Had any of them seen you, there’d be near a hundred ponies hunting you down...Rebels near and far, they could all focus in on this town, which would surely bring about our ruin. I’ve seen what they do to ponies who wouldn’t harm a fly. No, you mustn’t leave this room, not until I say it’s safe,” Buckwheat instructed. 
“Thank you, you have no idea how many ponies’ lives are at stake for this,” Guardian said. 
Buckwheat gave a questionable look, prompting Guardian to reach into her bag and retrieve an off-white envelope, stamped with red wax. 
“This is a letter from High Command, from the back lines. It’s orders to cease an assault from three of our largest battalions stationed just a little north of here, they’ll be running into a trap. We’ve been sent to stop them,” Guardian explained.
Buckwheat’s eyes widened with surprise, stunned by the significance of the letter.  
“Yes...Yes, I know what you’re talking about. That large encampment, to the North...That’s the place, the place we’ve been planning for,” Buckwheat said. 
“Planning for?” Silver asked. 
“Why, to escape here, of course. This town has been under occupation for...it must be weeks by now, I’m afraid I’ve lost track. It’s a miracle we’re still alive so long. Those rebel ponies...These ones in this town in particular, they’re far more...dangerous than any other rebels I’ve encountered. They’ve robbed this house three times already. My daughter is too young for them, and my wife too old, so we’re lucky in that, thank Celestia. They’ve confiscated every item that could be used as a weapon...I’ve seen them kill two of my neighbors already, right out in the street, just outside. On grounds of resistance or dissidence or something else they cooked up, so I hear. In this house, we’ve put on a good front of submissiveness, and so they’ve ignored us mostly. But I fear how long we’ll have lost. Help isn’t coming, that’s for sure. It’s like my wife said, we haven’t seen royal soldiers that aren’t prisoners here for so long. I had to help you, I had to…” Buckwheat said, though his eyes told Guardian he was regretting his decision.
“If we make it to our destination, we’ll be sure to send help for you. We owe you that, and more,” Guardian promised, candlelight twinkling in her orange eyes. 
“That’s very kind, but...I imagine it will be in vain. I’ve seen what they’ve done before. Occupied cities that are reaching the end, or about to be subjected to some assault. The rebels will round up every pony they consider useful, and slaughter the ones they don’t. Then they burn everything to the ground. No, we can’t wait for a rescue,” Buckwheat said. 
Guardian had run out of good answers, silently sipping at her coffee. 
“Well, I’ll leave you two here then, I’ll check on you, say...every two hours, is that alright with you?” Buckwheat proposed. 
“More than alright,” Guardian said, gratefully. 
Buckwheat stuck his pipe back in his mouth and rose from his chair, before trotting back over to the door, exiting the cellar, and locking the door behind him.
“What do you make of all that?” Guardian asked, waiting a few moments to make sure Buckwheat had ascended the stairs and was out of earshot. 
“I wish we could help him, but I don’t think we have enough time,” Silver said. 
“He’s quite possibly saved our lives, we have to try and get him and his family out of here,” Guardian argued. 
“There’s thousands of ponies across that river who are gonna die, Guardian. Are you really gonna let that happen just to save a few?” Silver asked. 
“I wish we didn’t have to make priorizations,” Guardian said, glumly, finishing off the last brownie from the tray.
“Look, I wish we didn’t either, but that’s how this works, ok? Obviously it’s not ideal,” Silver said.
Guardian said nothing, though Silver could clearly see she still wasn’t in agreement. 
“What happened to sticking to the Colonel’s orders, remember that? Well, the orders are to deliver that message, without any detours. We’re already a little behind from nearly getting our heads blown off, we can’t blow it all now,” Silver said. 
“Don’t even start with that! Following orders! Like you care about that!” Guardian shot back.
“Think about our chances, too. The longer we stick around here…” Silver said, her voice wavering, as her fears of death resurfaced once again. She wanted desperately to be out of this town, to be free from the burden that routinely threatened her and Guardian’s lives. 
“You heard what Buckwheat said...they could execute this whole town tomorrow if they wanted,” Guardian reminded, “We have to help these ponies.”
“Guardian, use your head. There’s an army of rebels out there, we can’t fight them!” Silver said. 
“Fine! We’ll leave them all to die! Is that what you want?” Guardian stammered. 
“You know I didn’t say that. I just don’t think you’re focusing on the right things,” Silver said. Guardian flinched as if she had been struck, Silver’s words stinging her heart. 
“Oh, because I’m incompetent, right. You don’t think I’m capable of making good decisions!”
“Not recently, no! If you want the truth,” Silver said, releasing some of her recent frustrations towards an emotional Guardian. 
Guardian stared at Silver with her mouth hung agape, at a loss for words. 
“All you ever do is complain, and whine, and I’m sick of it. It’s like you don’t care about anypony but yourself!”
“That’s not true, you know I care about you,” Silver said, loosening her hostile front. 
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it! You’re supposed to be my friend,” Guardian said, bitterly, turning her back on Silver. 
Silver sighed, unwilling to humor what she saw as a sad attempt at pity. 
“Do you really think the world is going to be the same when this is all over? Or that those ponies’ lives will be normal again? Or ours?”
Guardian said nothing, too consumed by her emotions to formulate a response. Silver shook her head, disappointed. 
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, when all these rebels have gone out. And we’re not taking anypony with us,” Silver said, flatly. 
“You’re heartless, you know that?” Guardian said. 
“I’m heartless? Because I’m trying to save your life, and my life, and thousands of other ponies’ lives? We can’t save them all, Guardian, you have to grow up and understand that.”
“Grow up!?” Guardian repeated in disbelief, “Listen to you! Who do you think you are? Like you’re some lieutenant or something…”
“I’ve seen a lot more than you, that’s for sure, so maybe listen to what I have to say,” Silver said. 
“Seen a lot more? Well I’ve lost a lot more. Who’s gonna be waiting for me if I ever get out of here? You’ve still got a family, mine’s destroyed! I need this! I need a win, I need something to feel proud of myself for, because nopony’s ever given me anything! I had to try my hardest for everything! Nopony’s in my corner! Not even you!”
Silver’s heart deflated for a moment, overwhelmed by a mixed sense of shame and betrayal. 
“I’m going to bed. Unless you have a problem with that too,” Guardian said, glumly trotting over to one of the corners of the room, plopping herself down on the dusty stone floor, and curling up beside a large crate of packaged grain. 
Silver sighed and sat herself down against some crates, assuming she would keep watch in case Buckwheat did turn out to be a lying rebel sympathizer. 

When Guardian awoke, she was still lying in the same position she had fallen asleep in. She stretched her hooves out, and quickly checked to make sure the letter was still in her duffel bag. 
To her relief, it was, its scarlet-red wax inspiring some much-needed encouragement.
Guardian lifted her head to inspect the rest of the cellar, which was still lost in darkness, despite it likely being morning.
“Silver?” Guardian asked, though she couldn’t see much of anything. 
Met by silence, Guardian slouched back against the crate she had fallen asleep beside, as the creeping fingers of regret began to wrap around her heart. She may have been too cruel towards Silver in her beratement, then again, perhaps not cruel enough. She couldn’t think straight, and she knew Silver seemed to be in an even worse state. She resolved to maintain their bond with as much effort as she could muster. For without Silver, she would be alone on the mission, a fate of which she was not sure she would survive. 
Catching Guardian off-guard was a sudden clanging of pots and pans, screeching out from above, up the stairs of the cellar. 
Guardian rose to her hooves, after feeling blindly through the darkness to locate her spear. Checking the cellar once again, this time she was certain that Silver was gone, the impact of which struck her like a brick to the face.
Flying into a panic, Guardian quickly made for the cellar door, pulling it open and flying up above the staircase. 
Light washed over her like a shower of sun, when she flung open the door at the top end of the cellar staircase. She found herself in a kitchen area, with few supplies left strewn about on top of the counters. 
Standing near a bowl of fruit by the corner of the kitchen island counter was Silver, chewing on the flesh of a green apple. 
“Silver! We shouldn’t be out here!” Guardian said, noticing the windows at the front-end of the house. The curtains were closed, though Guardian was still afraid. 
“That’s one way to say good morning,” Silver muttered, turning her eyes away from Guardian. 
“How long have you been awake?” Guardian asked, ignoring Silver’s bothersome sarcasm. 
“A few hours. Buckwheat woke me up, he told me under no circumstances can we leave the house during the day. Said the rebels are all staying in town today,” Silver explained, “I let you sleep in.”
“We’re stuck here all day? Silver, tomorrow’s the last day, if we-”
“I know. Not much we can do. Except raid his pantry,” Silver said, grinning as she tossed her apple from one hoof to the other. 
“You shouldn’t be doing that, we’re guests here,” Guardian said, flatly. 
“Hungry guests.”
Guardian rolled her eyes, standing on the edge of the staircase. 
“Is Buckwheat gone?” Guardian asked. 
“He went out to work. His two foals went to school. Cute kids, I can’t lie. His wife is sleeping upstairs,” Silver said.
Guardian nodded, coming to the understanding that they had now hit a temporary road block. 
“Well, when you’re finished robbing our host, I think we should take a look at the map, see if there’s a-” Guardian started, before a thunderous knock came aggressively pounding on the front door. 
“Oh no,” Silver muttered.
Guardian and Silver glanced at each other, for a quick moment of indecisiveness. Silver, however, had to act first, magically grabbing a hold of Guardian in a magical pony-size bubble, throwing her through the cellar door, and shutting the door behind her. 
Guardian caught herself before she could fall down the stairs, lifting her head just in time to see Silver telekinetically shut the door and lock it tight, trapping Guardian inside. The light swept across her face and left her in darkness as the door swung close, Guardian beginning to panic for Silver’s safety. 
Silver ducked down behind the kitchen island counter, just as she heard a rock come crashing through one of the front windows. Silver held her hoof over her mouth to prevent any noise from escaping, her eyes catching sight of the rock rolling right past the kitchen counter, across the hardwood floor. She heard some ponies laughing from outside, and though she couldn’t see it from where she was hiding, the lot of them were peeking through the hole they had just made in the window, brushing the curtain aside, mockingly calling out inside the house. Silver’s whole body tensed up, though she had the comfort of knowing that at least Guardian was safe, and the letter too. The island was rectangular, and from a small distance across the floor it was surrounded on three sides by more marble counters, an oven that no longer worked, and the pantry door. She was facing the back wall, her back turned to the counter and the front door behind her. 
From above, Silver could hear a pony begin stomping down the stairs, and around a corner to her left came Honey Pie, the tenderhearted wife of Buckwheat, her hair a mess and her face wild with confusion. 
She noticed the rock on the floor, and Silver hiding behind the counter, and, once she heard the ponies knocking on the door again, she was able to understand what was happening.
Before Honey Pie could get Silver inside the cellar, the grave voice of one of the ponies outside brought her to a sudden stop. 
“Mrs. Honey Pie? Please open the door,” the voice said. Honey Pie turned her head to get a glimpse at the hard stallion’s face staring right at her from the rock-torn hole in her window. 
She gulped in fright, subtly glancing down at Silver, and regretfully the two of them came to the realization that she would have to stay hidden as she was. 
“Coming!” Honey Pie chirped, donning a happy-go-lucky facade with hopes of deterring suspicion. 

From inside the cellar, Guardian could only hear muffled voices. She knew the door was locked from the outside, and couldn’t do much other than standby and wait for the danger to pass. Should things escalate, she knew she’d have to figure out a Plan B, and fast.

Honey Pie made her way to the front door, opening it up with a smile, pretending as though a rock hadn’t just been thrown through her property. 
Standing right in front of her was the pony who had addressed her from the window hole. He had a soft purple coat and fuzzy dark blonde hair, with a speckled spread of stubble and a youthful face. He appeared to be only a few years older than Silver, though his tall, powerful stature added the illusion of a few more years. He was wearing a rebel officer’s uniform, tight fitting leather with an authoritative black brimmed officer’s hat. 
“Lieutenant, what a surprise! I’m very sorry I couldn’t answer right away, I was taking a rest upstairs,” Honey Pie said, ignoring the snarling faces of the five other rebel soldiers standing around behind the blonde-haired lieutenant.
He eyed her, carefully, already skeptical of her good-natured greeting. He turned his head behind at the rebel grunts creeping behind him, one of whom must have been responsible for the rock. 
“Crux, and all of you. I am to be left alone for now,” the lieutenant said, his eyes half open with distaste for his lower-ranking subordinates. 
“Yes sir,” muttered one pony, whose name had to be Crux, backing away with the others towards their carriage parked out in the street, sheepishly.   
The lieutenant turned his attention back to Honey Pie, who was only hoping that his visit would be quick. 
“How may I help you, Lieutenant?” Honey Pie asked, her voice wavering. The lieutenant noticed this, though didn’t appear to treat it with suspicion. 
“Oh, my mistake, I apologize. My visit is nothing to be afraid of. Not even an inspection, I only mean to have a little discussion, is all. With that, may I ask you to please invite me inside?” he asked, smiling, as politely as he could.
Honey Pie hesitated, though she could tell the Lieutenant would only be taking ‘yes’ as an answer. 
“Of course, of course, come in,” Honey Pie said, lowering her head and stepping out of the way. 
The lieutenant nodded as a show of appreciation, and took two steps to enter inside the home. 
Taking a look around, he saw little difference compared to the last time he visited, which was at the very start of the occupation. 
“Mrs. Honey Pie, I promise you we’ll fully pay for the damage done to your window there. Those ponies, they think they can do anything, don’t they?” the lieutenant said, laughing at his own allies’ expense. Honey Pie gave a small smile, holding off from joining him and possibly labeling herself a critic of the rebel Coalition. 

Behind the kitchen counter, Silver kept herself perfectly still, terrified of making any sounds or movements that would reveal herself. The rebel was just a few feet away from her, and all he would have to do was take a few steps, and she would be caught. 
Honey Pie was just as aware of this, purposefully positioning herself so as to subtly block the lieutenant from being able to see Silver behind the island counter. 
“Buckwheat is out today?” he asked, removing his hat and placing it on a small table near the front door. 
“Yes, yes, he’s gone all day. Aster and Match are both at school,” Honey Pie explained.
“Oh, yes. What are they in? Fourth Grade?”
“Third.”
“Third! Very good, very good. I hope they’re doing well,” the lieutenant said. 
“Well as anypony their age can do. Very difficult explaining to them everything that’s happening,” Honey Pie said, and the lieutenant could tell she was directing most of the blame for that towards him and his cronies. He smiled, acknowledging a certain extent of the blame. 
“I wish it weren’t so, Mrs. Honey Pie, if only to spare those little angels of yours some bad dreams! I’d give anything for it all to end. I don’t like war. Some have a knack for it, but not I. Or maybe I do and I just wish I didn’t. Oh, forget that. I don’t mean to eat up your time too much today…” the lieutenant said, slowly making his way deeper into the house, ignoring Honey Pie’s subtle attempts to block him. She felt like screaming, as his steps reached closer and closer towards the kitchen island. 
He passed the frontmost counter, his eyes scouring every nook and cranny of the home he could possibly inspect. 
Honey Pie was frozen in fear, helplessly watching as the lieutenant slowly trotted past the island counter, though, taking a brief glance at the ground behind it, there was nothing much other than the wood of the floor.
Unknown to the lieutenant, and also unknown to Honey Pie, Silver had picked up on the lieutenant’s approach from following his hoofsteps, and had managed to silently reposition herself on the left side of the island instead of the back, again hidden from his view. And, as the lieutenant began to turn around and make his way back towards Honey Pie, Silver again repositioned herself back to where she had been, as silently as possible, her heartbeats rapid and relentless. 

With his subtle inspection complete, the lieutenant trotted back towards Honey Pie, to get down to the true purpose of his visit. 
“Mrs. Honey Pie. I would’ve much preferred to speak of this to your husband himself, but...I believe we can put our little charade here to an end,” the lieutenant said, bluntly. Honey Pie’s heart skipped a beat, and her mouth fell open and stayed there, as if she was paralyzed. 
“I...I can’t say I know what you mean, Lieutenant,” Honey Pie said, her voice quivering. 
Silver was now on high alert, but held off from taking any action quite yet, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal herself. 
“No, I think you know perfectly well what I mean, Mrs. Honey Pie…” the lieutenant said, his voice hard and venomous against Honey Pie’s frail, frazzled ears. 
“Your husband was spotted by one of our scouts. It’s amazing that he thought he could escape us, truly. Give him my regards for bravery. But yes, this must all be put to a stop,” the lieutenant said. 
Honey Pie batted her eyes innocently, resorting to playing dumb until whatever evidence he had could be thrown right in her face. 
“I’m sorry, I’m still not sure what you’re referring to.”
The lieutenant sighed, irritated with what he saw as an unnecessary waste of time beating around the bush.
“Two days ago, your husband was caught sneaking firewood to your neighbor, Mr. Curly. Now I don’t know where he got that firewood, but it certainly wasn’t the wood the Coalition provided him with, and it certainly wasn’t a regulated amount. Not to mention the transfer of personal materials such as that is explicitly forbidden under Coalition law.”
Honey Pie wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the lieutenant was still unaware of Guardian and Silver, or terrified of the implications of this separate act of lawbreaking. 
“Lieutenant, we’re very sorry, very! If Buckwheat was here now he would tell you the same! Mr. Curly’s son was sick, they needed more wood to keep a fire going, they had run out. Please, it won’t happen again,” Honey Pie said, pleadingly, terrified of suffering death or imprisonment over such a minute offense. 
The lieutenant sighed again, tired of having to deal with disorderly citizens on a near-daily basis. 
“I understand your struggles. And your neighbor Mr. Curly’s struggles. These are hard times for all of us. I’ve come on my own to tell you only to put a stop to all this. If the Colonel, or any of his heel-licking dogs were to know...I very much doubt they would be as merciful.”
“Oh, thank you, Lieutenant! We won’t ever do it again, I promise you,” Honey Pie said, shaking the Lieutenant’s hoof eagerly. 
His smile was surprisingly inviting, despite his cold exterior.
“That’ll do, I suppose. It’s a pleasure to meet with you as always, Mrs. Honey Pie. Do take care,” the lieutenant said, trotting back towards the front door, opening it and lowering his head beneath the doorframe, of which he was too tall for. 
“Thank you again, Lieutenant Goldfinch!” Honey Pie called out, catching upt him at the front door just as he was leaving. 
He left her with a subtle nod, before trotting down the front steps back towards the carriage, where his rowdy subordinates were loitering by.

Honey Pie kept a smile on her face for a reasonable period of time as she watched Lieutenant Goldfinch’s carriage begin to take off down the street, before she cathartically slammed the door shut and gave a tremendous sigh of anguish. 
 Silver immediately sprang out from behind the counter, running up to Honey Pie, who had fallen to the ground, exhausted. 
“Are you alright? Here, let me get you some water!” Silver declared, after taking a single look at Honey Pie, who had stifled a panic attack for the past several minutes.
Silver rushed back to the kitchen to pour some tap water into a clean cup she had retrieved from one of the cupboards. She darted back over to Honey Pie, who warmly accepted the water. 
Once Honey Pie had drunk it all, the two shared a small moment of relief that they had survived a narrow encounter. Honey Pie sighed, and glanced back at Silver, whose mind was still running in a hundred different directions.
“I would very much like to go back to bed now.”

While Honey Pie had retreated back upstairs to get some daytime rest, Silver made her way back to the cellar door, unlocking it. 
Without warning, she found the tip of Guardian’s spear positioned just inches from her neck.
“Whoa!” Silver exclaimed. 
“Oh, sorry!” Guardian said, lowering her spear. She had been standing near the top of the stairs during the entire ordeal with Lieutenant Goldfinch, her spear held at the ready. 
“Is everything alright? What happened?” Guardian inquired. 
“It’s ok, everything’s fine...Tell you what...I think you were right. Safer down here,” Silver said, having had enough close calls for one day already. 
Guardian moved to the side to let Silver head down the stairs into the dark cellar, before shutting the door closed. Silver was still in a state of exhilaration, having been just one wrong move away from death moments prior.

Neither pony was particularly comfortable speaking to the other casually, despite both wanting to. They were at odds, and were both so consumed by their exhaustion that they’d much prefer falling asleep in the pitch black of the cellar, in favor of risking another heated argument.
 
Both managed to fall asleep, and for the remainder of the day they lay strewn out on the floor of the cellar, letting their muscles relax after days upon days of physically demanding traveling. As long as the town outside was crawling with rebels, their chances of escape were small. Guardian figured that they may fare better at nighttime when most of the rebels would be asleep, or perhaps even the next day with hopes of the rebels moving out of the town again. However, tomorrow was their last day before they were too late to save the Northern battalions, which meant they would be cutting close. But not impossible. 
Guardian shuddered on the cold stone floor of the cellar, weakly holding onto her legs to try and warm herself. The room was so dark, that Guardian could hardly see her own hoof in front of her. Fear surrounded her in and out. Hope remained indeed, though only by a withered thread. But for all she had left, it was hope that kept her spirits alive, even in the darkest of places. Though, despite Silver lying just a few feet beside her, Guardian felt alone. Dust drifted through the air aimlessly past Guardian’s nose, and she sighed, her heart heavy with despair.
Sleep carried the two ponies on through the entire day, all the way until the sun had begun to set, when the door opened suddenly to reveal Buckwheat, who was trembling with fear.  
Silver was awoken immediately by the swinging cellar door, and jumped to her hooves, unsure whether Buckwheat was being followed by any rebel soldiers or not. 
He wasn’t, to her relief, though the panic on his face was equally distressing.  
“I’m sorry, but you both have to leave,” Buckwheat said, trembling over his words.
“What?” Silver said, her eyes widening. Guardian awoke in a fluster and stood up, hoping she hadn’t heard what she thought she had heard.
“They’re running night checks in a few hours. And without a doubt, they’ll find you…” Buckwheat said.
Guardian was speechless, struggling to accept what was happening. 
“There’s no opening yet! That place is crawling with rebels! A battalion's worth!” Silver exclaimed.
“If I could, I would let you stay...But I cannot risk my family’s lives any longer, you must understand...I can leave you with as much food and supplies as you need…” Buckwheat said, apologetically. 
“You’re killing us, you know that?!” Silver stammered, terrified of having to go outside and escape a city packed to the brim with enemy soldiers. 
 “Leave! Now! Please. I’ve done all I can for you,” Buckwheat said, marching up the short steps of the cellar to unlock the doors. 
Guardian resisted the urge to protest, and took to picking up her belongings, while Silver defiantly stayed put.
“If by some miracle we’re still alive tonight, try and meet us by the docks around a half hour from now, and we’ll help you and your family escape from here,” Guardian said. 
“Like hell! He’s stranding us! No way we’re helping them!” Silver said, furious at what she considered to be a betrayal. 
“Silver…” Guardian said, dejectedly, already believing their fates to be sealed. She turned back to Buckwheat, who was visibly upset with what he felt he had no choice but to do.
“I don’t blame you, you’ve got a family to protect...Good luck,” Guardian said, extending her hoof out to him as a gesture of good will.
He warmly accepted her hoof, though his head quickly lowered, still feeling some shame for casting them out from the safe haven of his home. 
“Silver, come on,” Guardian said, already halfway out from the cellar. 
Silver was practically seething with rage, but followed after Guardian, leaving Buckwheat with a horrendously cruel stare before exiting the shelter. Guardian gently closed both doors in on each other, and backed away, the two ponies now back out above ground.
“Can you believe that guy? We’re screwed, Guardian, we’re screwed!” Silver said, outraged and terrified. 
“Would you keep your voice down?!” Guardian whispered, pulling Silver closer towards the wall of Buckwheat’s house, trying to avoid being seen. 
“Alright, alright, I’ve had it. I’ve had it with you, I’ve had it with this stupid mission...We’re gonna die, Guardian! There’s no way out of here!” Silver said, tearing up as her emotions overwhelmed her. 
“We have to get to the docks, try and get a boat, and cross the river,” Guardian said, trying to stay calm while Silver resorted to panicking. 
Guardian grabbed Silver’s arm suddenly, holding on to her tightly until the unicorn could stop hyperventilating. 
“I need you to be with me,” Guardian said, staring into Silver’s unsteady eyes. 
Silver nodded, her left eye beginning to twitch as her nerves got the better of her. 
Guardian let go, and turned around to peek out from the corner of the wall. 
“Mostly everypony’s got to be asleep. We still have a chance,” Guardian muttered, darting across the corner to another alleyway. 
“Stay quiet, and don’t knock anything over,” Guardian said, once Silver caught up to her. 
“I can’t believe we’re doing this...Of all the places to run into, it’s here,” Silver whined, spitefully. 
Guardian scowled, frustrated by Silver’s relentless negativity. 
“If I ever see that rebel again, Sundance...I’m gonna blast his brains in.”
“Silver! I mean it! Shut up!” Guardian whispered, swiveling all the way around and getting up in Silver’s face. 
Silver was stunned for a moment, not used to Guardian being so assertive with her. 
“Back off,” Silver said, undeterred. 
“You need to stay quiet. Do you want to get caught?” Guardian said.
Silver gave no reply, waiting until Guardian turned back around, vindictively 
Both of them then quickly froze, at the sound of a pony screaming, not too far from where they were. 
They jumped back against the wall of the alley, staying as still as possible, hoping nopony had seen them. The screaming continued, and Silver first made the assumption that the cause for commotion had nothing to do with them. 
Creeping up along the wall of the alley towards the end where it spilled into the main street of the town, Guardian winced at the sound of the pony’s cries. 
“Guardian!” Silver whispered, trying to stop Guardian from inching towards the edge, for fear of her being spotted. 
Guardian made it, however, peeking over to get a glimpse of what was happening. 
There was a mare, on the younger side, down in the snow, enduring a barrage of ruthless kicks, courtesy of three rebel soldiers, all draped in their signature black armor and dark winter coats. 
“Stupid bitch, I’ve warned you once about curfew, haven’t I?!” one of them said, before landing another devastating blow. 
Guardian reeled back in disgust and prepared to step out and intervene, until a hoof grabbed her shoulder from behind. 
“We can’t,” Silver said, “We have to get out of here, come on.”
“But-” Guardian began.
“Now,” Silver said, firmly. 
Guardian hated to leave that poor mare to be beaten in the streets, but decided to comply with Silver’s wishes, as she too wanted to get out of this town as soon as possible. 
Silver led Guardian back into the alley and down another path heading north, the distant rushing waters of the river growing louder every step they took. The streets seemed to be largely empty of ponies, dominated instead by the snow, which came down in thick flurries that glowed in the light of the candlelit lamps hanging along the edges of most buildings in sight. They progressed through the alley they were traveling through, both believing it to be their best bet for keeping out of sight. But at the end of that alley, which led to the edge of the town where the battlements were, both came to a sudden halt. 
“Holy…” Guardian muttered, stopping dead in her tracks at the edge of the alley. The docks were within sight in the distance, over the battlements and across the uneven fields ahead. Guardian and Silver could both see the shimmering moonlight reflected in the nightcast waters of the river beyond, a bright light in the darkness that was waiting for them. 
But closer in proximity to the duo was the northern gate of the town, which, just like the southern gate, had been built by the rebels in case of a royal attack from the north. Constructed in the dirt were several wood structures, ranging from simple battlements, to terrifying, splintery crosses dug snugly in the ground. From what they could see, there were the decaying corpses of two ponies strung up on said crosses, one of which appeared to be burned to a crisp, his skin black and ashy, his face warped from fire. His condition harkened back to that poor soul Silver and Guardian had spotted back at the southern gate, and both wondered how many other ponies had suffered the same fate.  
But on one of the x-shaped crosses, and what immediately caught Guardian’s eye, was a young, white-coated unicorn with a wavy cerulean mane. She was wearing a few bruises over her body and some splatches of dirt, though, compared to the other ponies up there on display, she definitely seemed to more closely resemble being alive. 
“That’s Captain Radiance,” Silver muttered, shocked. Both Guardian and Silver had already assumed Periwinkle Radiance had been killed along with her troops at that battlefield they had encountered just two days ago. But, it seemed that not all of the 13th Velvet soldiers had been exterminated. Periwinkle’s helmet, which was bright purple and lined with gold edges, was stuck upon a great wooden pike buried in the ground nearby, as if to make a symbol out of the poor unicorn, whose head was hung low. She hung there on that cross, still as any of the corpses nearby her, though Guardian was inclined to believe there was still a chance to stage a rescue.  
Guardian had never formally met Periwinkle until a few days ago, though her reputation certainly preceded her. She was stunning, both in her looks and in her passionate determination to protect as many ponies’ lives as possible. In the latter aspect, she served as an inspiration to Guardian, and to many others in the army, though none of them could have known what had become of her now. 
But Guardian did, and she was absolutely horrified. 
“Wait, look! Did you see that? She’s alive! She moved, Silver, she’s alive!” Guardian exclaimed, still at whisper-volume. Indeed, Guardian had seen the sleeping unicorn move her head from one side to the other, though, unfortunately, Silver had missed this. 
“Guardian, she’s dead,” Silver said, regretfully. 
“No, I saw!” 
Silver sighed, believing Guardian to merely be seeing things.
“We can try helping her down if there’s time...But first we should make sure we have a ride out of here.”
“And what if we-” Guardian started, before shutting her mouth at the sound of yet another series of commotion. 
“What the heck?” Silver muttered, realizing some ponies were being rushed out into the main street to their left, close enough for them to see. 
Out of the shadows, they saw a stallion being shoved to the ground, an older mare and two foals quickly catching up to him. The pony who had shoved him revealed himself next, a rebel soldier, the same one who had been leading the beat-down of that mare earlier. 
Two other rebel soldiers followed him after, all three of them snickering at the sight of the frail old stallion down on the ground. His wife picked him up, and it was at that moment that Guardian and Silver could recognize who these ponies were. 
“That’s Buckwheat!” Guardian muttered. 

“Going for an evening stroll, eh?” said the rebel, chuckling as he slammed his hoof into Buckwheat’s gut. One of the foals, Buckwheat’s daughter Aster, screamed in fright at the sight of her father being mercilessly abused, though she soon regretted it. 
“You pipe down, you little shit, if the Colonel is woken up, there’ll be hell to pay. And you’ll be the one to pay it,” the rebel said, threateningly. He cackled mischievously while the filly broke down into tears. 
Buckwheat raised his hooves to signal his surrender, unable to put up a fight against the soldiers. 
“Please, we only meant to retrieve a part I need, from my friend’s boat at the docks, please,” Buckwheat said, his hooves shaking. 
“Really? And you need the whole family for that little venture, do you? Top marks for trying, now you’re in double the shit for telling phibs right to my face. Go get the dogs,” the soldier said, briefly turning his head to address one of the other rebel soldiers. 
Right as he turned his head back, he caught the tail-end of Guardian’s spear, right to the skull, knocking him out instantly. Before the other two rebels could react, Silver Saber had already fired two quick shots both of their ways, incapacitating them both.
Buckwheat was in bewilderment, until he turned to see Guardian and Silver standing over him. His face lit up in delight, not having expected a rescue.  
“Oh! Thank you! You kind souls, you’ve saved our lives,” Buckwheat said, graciously letting Guardian help him up to his hooves again. 
“We should make for the docks now, we have to hope nopony heard all of this,” Guardian said.
“No, no, not the docks. They’ve locked up all of the boats. But there’s a boat I had tied down stream, not too far from here, weeks ago. If we’re lucky it will still be there. It’s a little far from here, so we won’t have to worry about guards,” Buckwheat explained, pausing a few times to caress his wounds. 
“If you’re alright, we should go. Now,” Silver said. She still wasn’t fully over Buckwheat’s decision to cast them out, though she supposed it didn’t matter as much at the moment.
“Hey!” cried the voice of a rebel from down the street. 
“Now! Run!” Guardian said, rushing Buckwheat along in front of her. 
They ran straight towards the edge of the town into the wilderness, though there was still the issue of the barbed wire fence standing in their way.
“Silver!” Guardian yelled, though Silver was already on it, stepping ahead of the others and firing a blast of magic that incinerated the fencing in front of them, burning a hole large enough for them all to run through. 
“There!”
“They’re over here!” came the voices of rebels behind them, the sound of rushing hooves growing in number. Guardian could feel nervous sweat drip off her forehead, as she was the last one to climb through the hole. 
While breaking into a sprint into the woods that gradually led up from the town basin, Guardian quickly understood that her duffel bag was just slowing her down, and if she hoped to escape, she’d have to ditch it. Reaching into one of its pockets, she retrieved an off-white envelope, the letter she was to deliver, holding it in her hoof tightly, like her life depended on it. 
Taking flight so she could use her hooves and catch up to the others, Guardian retrieved some medical tape from her belt and ripped off a piece. She then removed her helmet, flipping it over and sticking the letter inside against its interior, and finally securing it against the metal helmet using the strip of tape. She stuffed the helmet back on her head, the letter now attached inside, seated right between the top of her head and the underside of her helmet, crinkling it slightly. With the letter secured, Guardian quickly ditched her pack, tossing it to the side to lighten her weight.   
Silver quickly did the same with her pack telekinetically, and then checked over her shoulder to see how close the rebels were in pursuing them. 
Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of nearly twenty rebel soldiers galloping through the woods after them. 
“Shit!” Silver muttered, realizing that the rebels would catch up to them in no time as long as Buckwheat and his family were slowing them down. 
Silver stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, taking cover beneath a large boulder. Sparing no valuable moments, she immediately took to firing her horn towards the fast-approaching rebel soldiers, who came forwards like a wave. Guardian wasn’t aware that Silver had stopped until she heard the sounds of rebels screaming in pain behind her. 
“Silver!” Guardian yelled, turning her head to see what Silver was doing. 
“Go!” Silver yelled. 
Guardian, although she respected Silver’s effort, was unwilling to allow her to make such a sacrifice, darting through the air on her wings to where Silver was, picking her up with all her strength, and flying back forward. 
“G-Guardian! Put me down!” Silver yelled, terrified as the rebels gained on them. 
“Stay with me!” Guardian yelled, carefully dropping Silver down on the ground, the two of them now running in tandem away from the enemy.

Ahead, they found Buckwheat and his family standing in place in a small dirt clearing, the moonlight from above shining down on them. 
“What’s wrong?!” Guardian yelled. 
She soon got to discover what. As soon as she and Silver entered the clearing, a good fifteen-odd rebel soldiers descended from the forest brush around them, encompassing the ponies in the center. Buckwheat was already waiting in the clearing, terrified out of his wits, having run right into the rebels’ trap. He had collapsed to the ground in defeat, while Honey Pie and the two foals were being held hostage under knife and axe by some of the rebel soldiers in the crowd.   
“Oh...that’s not good,” Guardian muttered under her breath.
Silver’s horn was glowing brightly, as she prepared herself to go down fighting, like she had always expected. Guardian too, had her spear drawn, glancing over her shoulder in every direction to see what the rebels were doing all around her. 
Soon the main group of rebels that had been chasing them caught up, joining the smaller detattachment and forming a thick ring around the exhausted ponies. 
“D-Dad?!” cried Matchstick, the oldest of Buckwheat’s two children. The boy was shaking with fear, and though Buckwheat was feeling just as afraid, he knew he had to make an effort to inspire some hope, if only for the end’s sake. 
“It’s going to be alright, son,” Buckwheat said, calmly, his eyes glancing up at Honey Pie’s heartbroken eyes. 
Guardian couldn’t deny she was terrified, both of being killed and of the rebel soldiers themselves. They were all stallions, all brutish, rough-mugged fiends with scars and twisted faces. They were rowdy as well, as they completely encircled the ponies in the clearing. They carried axes and spears, and some had rifles too, but they all seemed to be quite eager to get down to business. 
Their rowdiness soon broke down, when one figure started making his way to the front. 
He must have been the largest stallion both Guardian and Silver had ever laid eyes on. His face seemed to be made of hard stone, his skin was as thick and rough as tree bark, and his eyes were like raging fires. He was dark grey in color, and his mane had all been shaved off. His muscles bulged everywhere they could, and his very presence ushered a sense of fear, even among his own troops. 
“Pegasus,” he said, coldly. His voice was so grim, it was if he had just swallowed a cup of gravel and vinegar. 
Guardian nervously perked up, dearly hoping he wasn’t referring to her. 
“If those wings go up, that little girl over there is dead. Understand?”
Guardian nervously readjusted her steps, still a bit shocked by how imposing the stone-faced stallion came across. 
“Understand?!” he yelled, as if he was about to rip apart everypony in sight. 
“...Yes,” Guardian said, scornfully.  
“Good,” he said. 
Before anypony could say anything, another group of ponies shoved their way through the crowd of rebels from the opposite direction, carrying in a small wooden rowboat that had already been smashed apart and rendered useless. 
“I think this was what they were going for,” said the pony carrying one of the pieces, as he and the others dumped the remnant of the boat to the ground. 
The crowd of rebels erupted in laughter, while Buckwheat stared at what was left of his escape plan, tears forming in his eyes. 
“Alright! Alright! Let me through! Let me through, I say!” yelled one of the rebels in the back of the crowd, shoving his way to the front. He was a unicorn, a narrow-snouted yellow pony with feathery orange hair and a signature look of superiority. He made his way to the front and center, approaching Buckwheat, who was still kneeling on the ground, perpetually defeated. 
“Ah, here we are. Mr. Buckwheat...I’m afraid it’s within clear judgement that you’re found guilty of attempted escape, and collusion with the enemy. Terrible luck, my friend. I always knew you would crack one day,” said the yellow-coated rebel. He gave a nod to another pony next to him, who was carrying a long black rifle, aimed precariously towards the group. 
 The pony with the rifle took a step forward and raised his weapon towards the unsuspecting Buckwheat, who had already guessed what his fate was to be. The old stallion shut his eyes gently, just as the magical pellet exploded out from the rebel’s rifle, bursting through the back of Buckwheat’s skull, exploding on impact. 
For a few seconds, there was silence, Silver and Honey pie now both partially covered in the sticky red mess that had sprayed out from Buckwheat’s now missing head. The body collapsed in a heap, blood draining out from the stump neck, blistered veins and burnt tissue spilling out from the wound. 
Honey Pie, along with both of her children, immediately started screaming in horror and despair, helpless against the will of the rebels, who merely laughed at the eradication of yet another attempted escapee. 
“Mr. Jolly! Take them back, I think we’re to deal with them later!” the yellow-coated rebel said, having to yell in order to be heard over the screaming of Buckwheat’s family. 
Jolly Jingle, a short, aging, curmudgeon pale green earth pony, made his way out from the crowd followed by a few more rebels, walking straight towards Buckwheat’s family. 
“Please! Please, Have mercy!” Honey Pie cried, as the rebels roughly escorted her and the foals through the crowd and back into the woods towards the town. 
After a few moments of waiting for Jolly’s party to have left, the yellow-coated rebel turned back to Guardian, who still had her spear raised defensively.
“Well then. You two. I suppose you’ve already made a slight mess of things. Please, surrender. Let’s not make this difficult.”
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” Silver said, resolving to take as many of the rebel scum down with her as possible. 
The rebels snickered in mockery, calling out some pretend reactions of intimidation. 
“There’s not much of a chance for you, is there...Oh, and like Mr. Gash has already said, if you do choose to raise up your wings there, I am afraid we’ll be forced the execute that poor little family of our deceased friend Mr. Buckwheat...Are we still at an understanding?” Buckwheat said, nodding at the dark grey, stone-faced brutish stallion, Hammer Gash. 
“...Yes,” Guardian said, painfully, as she ran out of options in her head. 
Surrendering likely meant death, but there was still a possibility for escape. If she did defy the will of these rebels, she would certainly be outright killed, and the mission would be a failure. There was only one possible option, although it was certainly a terrible option on its own.
“Okay, we surrender,” Guardian said, bitterly dropping her spear to the ground. 
“Guardian, what the hell are you-” Silver yelled. 
“You know this is the only way,” Guardian said, clearly not happy to be doing it herself. 
“Miss Unicorn? I encourage you to follow your friend’s example. Otherwise I guess we’ll just waste both of you,” the yellow-coated rebel said, getting a twisted thrill out of watching Guardian and Silver struggle with their course of action. 
“Fine!” Silver yelled, furious. If it wasn’t for the threat of Guardian’s life and her insistence on sticking by Guardian through everything, then Silver would’ve certainly opted to die fighting.
Her horn dimmed, and now both ponies were virtually helpless to the ensemble of rebels surrounding them, glaring at them all with a steadfast resentment. 
Guardian would’ve left the rebels with some final words of defiance as they closed in around her, but before she could, she felt a sudden impact to her head, and then everything turned to black.

Guardian’s mind drifted awake after an unknowable period of time, and immediately all she could feel was the resounding pain in the back of her head. She had been struck with something and knocked unconscious, something that had never happened to her before, ever. 
She was in a large room, second story in what had to be the town hall of Pine Hearth. The room was built with wooden floors and held elegant furniture, and the warmth of a lit fireplace glowed against her back from behind her. To her left was a large window peering down at the town, which was still dead asleep.
Tied to the chair, Guardian was still wearing her golden armor, and her helmet too. She could feel the letter still stuffed between her mane and her helmet, and was relieved that hope was not yet fully lost. 
Guardian bit at the piece of white cloth tied tightly around her mouth, which shut her lips together and prevented her from being able to speak. She was tied to a chair in thick ropes, tied so tight she couldn’t move anything but her head. The ropes were so tight it felt as though she and the chair were one and the same. If she was ever to escape from captivity, she’d have to be freed from that dastardly chair first. 
“Mmph,” came the grunt of another pony, to Guardian’s right. Guardian turned her head to her right and saw Silver seated in an identical predicament, gagged and tied to a chair close beside her. It appeared that Silver had long given up trying to wrestle her way free, and appeared to have also been subjected to some abuse, evident by the black eye on her left eye and the couple of bruises on her cheek. 
Guardian’s wings were wrapped tight in ropes to prevent her from even being able to take flight, and likewise, Guardian noticed there was a thin metal cone stuck over Silver’s horn, complete with a miniature padlock. The device seemed quite uncomfortable for the wearer, and the sour, exhausted look on Silver’s face helped confirm that. Guardian had heard of those devices before, magical restrictors, though none looked quite as painful to wear as the ones designed by the rebels for their unicorn prisoners. 
“She’s awake,” came a voice from behind them. Guardian was shaking with fear, not used to being so helpless. She had heard stories of what rebels did to royal prisoners, and none of them were anything good. 
To her surprise, Silver felt the gag around her mouth be undone by a stallion’s hooves behind her, freeing her mouth. She said nothing though, too afraid of receiving some sort of additional punishment from her captors. 
While Silver’s gag was being undone, several ponies began to make their way from behind Guardian and Silver’s chairs in front of them. 
Guardian recognized a few, namely that yellow-coated unicorn who had spoke to them earlier. There was also that stone-faced brute Gash Hammer, and Mr. Jolly the curmudgeon earth pony. 
There were a few others, who all appeared to be higher ranking rebel officers, standing in the background by the bookshelves, watching them wriggle in their bondage. 
Guardian and the wounded, half-awake Silver watched as the rebels all stepped back towards the walls of the room, away from their prisoners, as if to admire their newest catches. Guardian had expected the yellow-coated pony to be the leader of these devils, but, to her surprise, it was a different pony who was stepping towards them. 
He had a pale grey coat and a large, orange and grey mane that swooned backwards over his neck. His eyes were a menacing green, like a serpent’s, and his smile was haunting to every letter of the word. 
“So you’re the ones they keep talking about…” he said, slowly, and precisely, examining them each from hoof to head. 
“I’m not quite sure what I was expecting, and so I’m not quite sure I am disappointed…” he said, chuckling to himself as he trotted over to a small table by the window and poured himself a short glass of scotch, a mild celebration for the night. 
“It’s dawned on me that, though I’m quite aware of the two of you and your escapades in my passage, you must be entirely unaware of who I am…Are you aware of who I am?” he asked, coyly sipping at his glass. 
Guardian’s mouth was hanging open, something she instinctively did when she was either scared or confused. And right then it was a mixture of both.
“No,” she replied. 
“Perfectly understandable, then I suppose there’s a matter of introductions in order,” the stallion said, taking a gulp of his drink before returning to stand in front of the two bound ponies. 
“My name is Fire Streak, I am the commanding officer of the 4th Airborne Brigade, and, more importantly for your sakes, the acting commander over this occupation. An occupation, the order of which, has been tampered with, by you…” he said, almost cockily, as if he was impressed with his own reputation.
“Wait...Fire Streak, like, Fire Streak from the Wonderbolts?” Guardian asked, recalling the name from some childhood memories of Wonderbolt air show extraordinaires. As much as Guardian and her father had their problems, they both had loved to sit and watch the Wonderbolts. 
“In my youth,” Fire Streak said, again as if he was absolutely in love with himself. 
“I had a Wonderbolts lunch box,” Silver said, her voice whispery and coarse. Guardian glanced at Silver, and then back to Fire Streak, who was staring out the window at the town, or rather, his town.
“The Wonderbolts! Now those were the golden days, weren’t they. Seems like grand old tales, now, don’t they. A world where we were all united under one banner, under one nation?” Fire Streak said, blissfully. 
“Buckwheat’s family, are they alright?” Guardian asked, hopeful that the rebels hadn’t punished ponies who were far too innocent to be treated with cruelty.
“They are, at the moment, though, I hardly think their fates have anything to do with you...You’re no longer in the position to make demands, unfortunately…” Fire Streak said, smiling at Guardian, eyeing her body with a slithering, lustful, gaze.  
“You two have surely created quite a ruckus around here. All over, my patrols have come back scared out of their wits. They say they’ve found piles of their friends’ bodies sitting in the road, ponies disappearing...I had first imagined your efforts were the work of a full unit at least. Now that I know it’s just the two of you...I can’t deny, that is impressive,” Fire Streak said. 
“Quit talking, and do whatever you’re going to do,” Silver spat, disgusted with Fire Streak and the very way he carried himself. 
“What was that I said about making demands?” Fire Streak asked, his eyes drifting over to the stone-faced brute, who promptly popped Silver hard in the face with his heavy hoof, turning Silver’s nose purple from blunt injuries. Trails of blood began to seep down over her mouth, and Silver decided she might be better staying silent. 
“Don’t hit her!” Guardian yelled, furiously. 
“I see you’ve already been acquainted with our dear Gash Hammer there. Yes, I wouldn’t recommend making an enemy out of him. You, unicorn, I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut,” Fire Streak said, and Silver was already in agreement. 
“Days ago I thought we couldn’t have it any better here. All these units in this town came to help out the effort against your adorable little purple helmeted soldiers. We triumphed, predictably. It was of little contest. They went down like cowards, squashed beneath our hooves like ants. It was a pathetic display, I was even beginning to think you royals had very little to offer besides your do-nothing alicorn princesses...And then I hear about you two, stirring up trouble. And I was feeling excited again. A real threat. I just couldn’t wait to meet you…”
Guardian, again, began to feel uncomfortable with the way he, and all of the rebels as a matter of fact, were looking at her. She was completely vulnerable, to her despair, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of whatever they had planned for her. 
“That captain they had...oh, for the Queen’s sake, what is her name? I know her name, what is it?...Ah! Yes, Periwinkle. Periwinkle Radiance...Have you seen what’s become of her?” Fire Streak asked. 
Guardian nodded, disgusted with the pride he seemed to take in his evil inquiries to give a solid answer. 
“A souvenir from a battle well fought. A trophy. I recognized her on the battlefield, from a formal event I happened to attend a few years ago. She must’ve only been a recruit then, and she’s still so young. I had my eye on her even back then. To think where we’d all be now! You know what happened? What I thought was strange? I talked with the other prisoners we took, and the one thing they all agreed on, is that they all begged for her life to be spared instead of theirs, like she...meant something to them, represented something. Naturally, I obliged them, and now she’s the only one left. And it came to me, that whatever she represented before, could be put on as a show. To be mocked. I take it as a divine gift, or whatever that is. Her? Out there? She’s old news. This is the future, the Coalition is the future. A world brought up on unity and solidarity, in place of division and dissatisfaction. And when it’s all said and done, and the history books are written, they’ll call out our names as the saviors of our species….”
“Don’t even try to paint yourselves as heroes. That’s a living, breathing pony out there, not some object for you to play with,” Guardian said, disgusted. 
Silver glanced at Guardian, terrified that she had possibly warranted some punishment. But Fire Streak seemed more intrigued than angry. 
“Look at her out there and tell me which of those she closest resembles. It’s always the weak who beg and cry for equality and justice, when they have no idea what that really means...They don’t want freedom. They want peace. They want routine. They want dependency, order, and attention. It’s only envy, and weakness, and arrogance that convinces ponies to fight for their so-called freedoms. The weak hate the strong, because they’re the ones at risk. They cry and moan that the world isn’t fair, because they can’t help themselves. And for all that to come from you,” he said, roughly grabbing Guardian by the chin and lifting her head back to get a better look at her, “A pony who, by all means, is of the top of the top stock, is just insulting. How are we to unite when we have ponies like you defending the weak, those who can’t even fend for themselves? You fight for a world of pity,” Fire Streak said, as he increasingly became unhinged. 
Guardian was aggravated by Fire Streak’s words, but couldn’t find the strength to muster a reply. Fire Streak, however, had no intention of letting up on them.   
“You call yourselves heroes. And even to this day ponies are still learning the truth. But some of you never learn...No matter how hard we try to make you see, you just keep pretending. Pretending that monsters don’t exist. Are we the monsters, because we’ve embraced the evil that’s inside all of us? What makes you any better, Corporal? You’ve killed the same as I, you’ve disregarded the code of morality that you once lived by, and sought to die by. You’ve made us all out to be a pest, a contagion that must be eradicated. But you’ve forgotten….that these ponies were once the same as you. You’ve put us into a box, where we either keep fighting against the label you’ve put on us, until we are all utterly extinct, or we accept it, and we’re fizzled out after time. What binds us to be ethical, or fair, when we receive nothing in return? Most of the ponies in this army don’t love the Queen...they don’t even hate the nation Equestria. They fight because they’re afraid. Afraid of losing what they care about. But once they see how you treat them, like foreign invaders, that’s when they truly become your enemy. They are your enemy, because you treat them like nothing less. But they’re just scared little ponies, doing what they must to save what they love. You’re creating the very enemy you seek to destroy, through your disregard and arrogance. Have you no pity for those ponies wrapped up in a war they want no part in? Of course not. So here’s what I’ve done, with my division here, that you’ve become so well acquainted with after managing to escape us for days now. I’ve found the very worst ponies that serve in this glorious Coalition army, the most violent, horrible, cruel ponies I could find, and I’ve told them that there is no going back. How could there be? Should you win the war, will there be amnesty for these ponies? You would expect so, but something tells me that the desire for vengeance will prove more persuasive. So us, we are fighting for our very lives, our very survival. We will rid the world of all the evil that corrupts it...starting with your dear Princesses, who have been blinded by their own folly. Celestia is weak-willed and consumed with her own majesty, she is unfit to rule over Equestria. And her princess subordinates are but extensions of that. I look forward to the day, when those princesses are all in chains and locked away deep underground for eternity...And once they’re gone, we will eradicate the weak, and unite ponies all across Equestria under one leader, one who will see to their needs.”
Fire Streak was practically livid, consumed with a prophetic sense of anticipation and excitement, all the while Guardian and Silver resisted every ounce of his corrupt ideology.
“Equestria will burn. It’s already begun. You think you’ve got us on the run, you think we’re days from surrendering, but it will never happen. Your princesses have abandoned you all to misery and death. Your heroes have been reduced to trophies and toys,” Fire Streak said, glancing out the window at the bound Periwinkle Radiance. 
“And you two...both young, both easy on the eyes...You can probably guess what will become of you. If you survive my troops, that is. Which is, dare I say, unlikely. Oh, don’t give me that look. We’ve been cutting down your stragglers in these woods for weeks now. We took the tags of one of your lieutenants, after we hucked his body into the river. Fanfare, was his name. I remembered his face. He attended one of our Wonderbolt shows, back in my youth. There was another squadron by the river, where we found one of our pillboxes raided. Were you a part of that?”
Guardian and Silver both knew of whom he was speaking about, but said nothing.
“You don’t need to answer, I already know. You left this with their sergeant. We found it after we dug up the graves,” Fire Streak said, revealing a golden locket held by a chain, covered in brown dirt. 
Guardian suddenly flew into a fit of thrashing in her bondage, outraged by the rebels’ desecration of Halo and his company’s graves, of whom she and Silver personally buried. 
“Yes, judging by this, I take it he meant something to you,” Fire Streak said, gripping the locket she had left with Halo before his death. 
“You gutless, heartless rats! To disturb the dead!” Guardian screamed, enraged. 
“It was only practical. For things like this,” Fire Streak said, admiring the gleam of the golden locket. “This name, Angel. Is this you?”
Guardian refused to participate in this discussion, though Fire Streak already knew the answer.
“A royal guard by the name Angel...Intuition then tells me that you’re the daughter of...it must be General Archangel...I knew he had sons, but not a daughter. Did he give you this?” Fire Streak asked. 
“My mother did,” Guardian said.
Fire Streak tilted his head, smiling as she walked closer towards her. He brought his face close beside her neck, as she awkwardly, desperately tried to turn her head away from him. His breath was hot on her neck, and it made her fume with anger and humiliation. 
“Your father, I knew him. Before the war. He was always so brash, so hard, so focused. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like to have him as a father….” Fire Streak said, slowly placing his hoof around Guardian’s shoulder, gliding his hoof up along her body towards her neck, “And would you look at that, it’s as if his name causes you pain just to think about. A family of killers. Did he raise you to be like him? Is that what you think we need? More ponies like him? What a pity that you won’t ever leave this place intact...The General’s daughter...He never mentioned you, to anypony, not once...Tell me, what did he do to you to make you wince like that? Did he ever hit you?” Fire Streak asked, breathing against her cheek.
Guardian was holding back tears, shutting her eyes tightly, her head still turned away from Fire Streak, whose face was now just a centimeters away from her. Guardian tried her best to keep herself together, though that was difficult with Fire Streak on top of her, his movements becoming increasingly invasive. 
“Stop it! Leave her alone!” Silver yelled, affected by how upset Guardian was becoming, and how physically close to her Fire Streak was getting. 
Fire Streak shot a fiery stare towards Silver, who was also trying her best to stay composed. As much as she was afraid of being subjected to more abuse by the rebels, she couldn’t stand to watch Fire Streak attempt to force himself on Guardian. 
“You’ve both put up a good fight, I can’t deny you that. But it’s over now. You’ve nowhere left to run. Nopony to save you, nopony to save. We will move on from this town to the next, and on and on, until the whole of Equestria has learned what it’s like to suffer. Equestria will be born again, this time out of the flames of purifying fire. And you, who continue to resist, you will all be destroyed. One at a time, if necessary. If not today, tomorrow. If not today, then tomorrow. Your world is at an end.”
Fire Streak walked back away from the prisoners while Guardian tried desperately to stop herself from crying. 
“Now then...It’s apparent that, although it’s very clear that you are the ones stirring up all this trouble in my passage, it is still a mystery to all of us as to why…” Fire Streak said, smirking as he nodded to the yellow-coated rebel nearby.
“Mr. Lemon Spot had kindly located and searched those two bags that you attempted to discard...Mr. Lemon Spot? Do share your findings,” Fire Streak said. 
Lemon Spot took a few steps forward, telekinetically holding a few items on display. 
Silver was absolutely terrified, expecting them to have found the letter. She was unaware, still, that Guardian had hidden it underneath her helmet. Yet, in Lemon Spot’s aura of green magic, the letters containing the orders to the 19th were noticeably absent. Silver turned her head to Guardian, confused. Guardian subtly glanced up towards her helmet, and Silver quickly understood, greatly relieved that the letter was safe. 
“Some books in this bag, sir. There could be some hidden message in there,” Lemon Spot posited. 
Fire Streak turned to Silver. 
“Is there such a thing?” he asked. 
“No, there’s nothing special about the books,” Silver said, dryly. 
“Really? So we’re free to burn them? Right now?” Fire Streak asked, grinning sinisterly. 
“What? No, don’t do that!” Silver cried, horrified. 
“Oh? And why not? If there’s nothing special about them?”
“They’re special to me!” Silver exclaimed. 
Fire Streak grinned, and he clearly wasn’t buying Silver’s alibi, although it was the truth. 
Fire Streak gave Lemon Spot a nod, and the unicorn immediately took to throwing all three of Silver’s beloved books into the nearby fireplace. Silver turned pale with fright at the sound of crinkling embers and burning paper, signaling the tragic demise of her favorite books.
Guardian wished she could comfort Silver, who seemed to be losing every single pony and thing she cared about recently. Though, as long as she was bound to that chair, Guardian could do little to help.
“Well, since only you seem to be upset about the books, I take it that means they weren’t why you were out here,” Fire Streak said, still at a loss. 
“So I’m beat. Ms. Angel. Tell me. Where’s your unit? Why are you out here? Where were you trying to go?”
Guardian stayed completely silent, defiant in her strong resentment towards Fire Streak and his cronies. 
“Nothing? Really? Are you sure?” Fire Streak asked again, providing Guardian with a chance to reconsider. 
Again, she was silent, though she was already coming close to tears, aware that she could be seconds away from being killed. 
“Very well. Her first,” Fire Streak said. 
Guardian and Silver shared a look of shock, as several rebels approached Guardian’s chair. 
“Oh, and do leave her face. She has a very pretty face, we wouldn’t want to ruin it,” Fire Streak specified, making Guardian wince again with fear for what the rebels had planned for her. 
They unfastened her tight restraints, freeing her completely from her rope bondage. Guardian first considered flying off through the window, though Fire Streak had expected this. 
“Don’t make any sudden moves, or your friend’s neck is getting cut open,” Fire Streak warned, while Guardian was escorted closer towards him in front of the chairs. Fire Streak probably wasn’t lying, either, as Guardian noticed Gash Hammer standing behind Silver with a knife held dangerously close to her throat. 
Guardian tried her best to maintain her composure and show bravery in the face of death, though, when surrounded by a pack of bloodthirsty sadists, that was rather difficult. 
“Bring it over,” Fire Streak commanded. 
Without delay, in a matter of seconds two rebels came springing out from one of the doors to Silver’s right, wheeling in some strange wooden contraption, that vaguely resembled a horse cradle. 
“Go on,” Fire Streak said.
Before Guardian could act on her own, the rebel behind her whacked her in the back with the butt of his axe, forcing Guardian down on top of the cradle lengthwise, so that all four of her legs hung off the sides, practically perfectly aligned with four wooden legs of the device. The seat was fitted with a leather pad, which was surprisingly comfortable, though Guardian understood that she probably wouldn’t be comfortable for long. 
Two rebels then bent down on either side of her, and began looping some ropes around her hooves and each of the four legs of the wooden cradle, effectively tying her down on top of it. She made little resistance, wary of the knife that was still positioned under Silver’s throat. 
“This device was devised by the Queen herself, you should feel honored,” Fire Streak said, right as Guardian’s last free leg was tied to the leg of the cradle. Guardian scowled, uncomfortable with how tightly she was positioned atop the cradle. 
“Mr. Wood Chip! You may proceed!” Fire Streak called. 
Out stepped a short brown-coated stallion with black mutton chops and a pair of spectacles, carrying in a pail of nails and a hammer in one hoof, and two thin strips of wood in the other. 
“Guardian…” Silver muttered, terrified for Guardian at the sight of such intimidating, crude instruments. 
“Silver, don’t say anything, okay? You have to promise me, no matter what, don’t say anything,” Guardian said, intent on seeing this mission through, even if it meant she herself had to go through hell.  
“Silver!’ Guardian yelled, after Silver held off from answering right away.
“Ok! I promise!” Silver replied, though she wasn't sure whether she’d be able to hold herself to that. 
“You, unicorn, Silver’s your name? Whatever, listen up. You have to keep your eyes open and watch everything, got it? Otherwise we’re gonna make it a lot worse!” Fire Streak yelled, trying his best to rattle the distressed unicorn. 
“O-Ok…” Silver said, struggling not to cry on her friend’s behalf. 
Guardian was focusing on her breathing, and trying to avoid looking at the sharp nails sitting in Wood Chip’s pail, or his thick metal hammer. 
Wood Chips first bent down on her left side, taking one of the thin wooden planks in his hoof. He angled it diagonally from underneath the base of the seat of the cradle, angling it upwards and outwards into the air. Wood Chip raised his hoof to signal another one of the rebel soldiers, who quickly approached carrying a large rock with a short string tied around it. 
With Wood Chip’s help, the rebel soldier tied the other end of the string to the free end of the thin plank sticking up in the air. The rock effectively weighed down the plank away from the base of the seat, and Guardian could begin to tell what the point of the device was. 
“Extend your wing,” Wood Chip commanded. 
Guardian hadn’t even heard him, her mind was so flustered with fear. 
“Spread your wing now!” Fire Streak yelled, getting a sick, evil pleasure out of watching Guardian hold back tears. 
Guardian’s mind tweaked, and she reluctantly obeyed, her left wing spreading outwards. She was beginning to feel petrified, hoping to Celestia that she wouldn’t end up permanently deformed or scarred. As long as she could walk, and as long as the letter was still safe hidden underneath her helmet, she still had hope. She held off from complaining or begging for mercy, knowing she wouldn’t be getting out of this with words alone. She knew she had a duty to Equestria to deliver the letter, regardless of the costs. She only wished the costs wouldn’t be too painful.  
Wood Chip gently grabbed Guardian’s wing and hoisted it outwards, far enough until the tip of her feathers were positioned right over the edge of the plank. The nearby guard held her wing in place, while Wood Chip positioned one of the nails right over the tip of her wing.   
Then, without warning, Wood Chip raised up his hammer and slammed it down over the nail, sending a shockwave of pain through Guardian’s body. He hammered the nail deeper into the cartilage of Guardian’s wing three more times, until her wing was firmly stuck to the plank. Wood Chip released his hooves from her wing, which recoiled slightly back and forth. Guardian couldn’t stop herself from screaming in agony, as her wing was stretched outwards by the plank weighed down by the rock on the string. 
While Guardian continued bursting into tears, Wood Chip trotted to the other side of her and gave her right wing the same treatment, leaving Guardian a contorted mess of blood and tears. 
Silver was speechless, her eyes widened in fright at the sight of Guardian’s mutilated form, as tears slipped out from her eyes and agonized groans came pouring out from her mouth.
Drops of blood fell from the tips of Guardian’s wings, seeping into the hardwood floor. Her deep breaths were mixed with exasperated moans, as she tried her very hardest to tolerate the pain. 
“Now, Miss Angel, before we really begin...Are you sure you can’t answer any of our questions?” Fire Streak said, getting close to her face while she sniffled and whimpered in pain. 
“Burn in Hell,” Guardian said, right before spitting a thick glob of saliva directly into Fire Streak’s face.  Despite the terrible situation they were in, Silver couldn’t help but feel proud of Guardian for that.
The rebels all laughed in spite of Guardian’s attempt at defiance, considering the position she was in. Fire Streak was laughing too, wiping off his face with a rag he had just been handed by one of the rebels. 
“As you wish,” Fire Streak said, laughing as he backed away. 
“Give it to her. Give all of it to her,” he said, slightly more sinisterly, as if he had actually been offended by her defiance. 
Guardian braced herself, though she definitely wasn’t quite ready, when the first strike of a hard metal cane came crashing down into Guardian’s stretched left wing. Immediately, a sickening snap could be heard, quickly followed by Guardian gasping in unbearable agony. Silver focused on keeping her eyes open as she was instructed, for fear of adding to Guardian’s torment, though it was unfathomably difficult to keep her eyes fixed on the now crooked, bent wing of her screaming friend. 
Silver was sweating in fear, afraid of what punishment would be given to her next, as she watched each rebel in the room take a turn landing some horrendously cruel blows to Guardian’s poor wings, using a variety of instruments. Aside from the cane, she saw them use a spiked bat, a splintery wooden club, and a metal bat, all used to demolish Guardian’s vulnerable wings. 
After twenty strikes to each wing, Guardian was a sweaty mess of exhausted, agonized yelps, and ear-piercing screeching, her wings now covered in crude black, blue, and purple bruises, bent in unnatural ways and seemingly on the verge of breaking apart completely. Blood dripped from opened sores and formed puddles on the ground, and all the while the rebels were laughing as if they were at a comedy show. 
Guardian hung limp on the cradle, and her screams came out in intervals, in response to each individual hit. Otherwise she was just lying there, panting and grunting in pain, her eyes half open and her body motionless. Despite Guardian’s wishes, Silver absolutely couldn’t bear to let the torture continue, finally intervening.
“Stop! Stop! Please! Let her go! I’ll tell you anything you want to know! Everything!” Silver yelled, right before Gash Hammer himself was to have his turn. Fire Streak raised his hoof to stop the treatment, approaching Silver with inquisitorial eyes. 
“I just knew you’d come around,” Fire Streak said, laughing with his sinister grin.
“Silver….Don’t….” Guardian said, though her voice was so shot from screaming that it only came out as a whisper. 
“Well then, Miss Silver, tell me. Where’s the rest of your unit?”
“Dead! We’re all that’s left. Those bodies you found, the ones buried with her locket that you’ve got, they were some of ours. We had others before that too, but they all died too,” Silver said, concocting her story as she went along, hoping she hadn’t made any narrative errors yet.
To her delight, Fire Streak didn’t seem to be immediately suspicious of her story’s validity. 
“I know that pony, the sergeant, he was the third in command to that Fillydelphia unit lieutenant...That lieutenant, what was his name?” Fire Streak asked, testing whether Silver was telling the truth. 
“Fast Track, he was our lieutenant,” Silver said. 
“So you’re telling me you’re a part of that Fillydelphia unit?”
“Yes.”
“You’re from Fillydelphia then? Or lived there during the draft at least? What part of the city?”
“Downtown, Old City,” Silver replied, instantly. 
Fire Streak seemed to be convinced, though he kept going, hoping to find some sort of holes to prove she was a liar. 
“And what? They all got killed and now you two are on your own?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you down here to begin with? We’ve been hunting down you last stragglers for weeks,” Fire Streak said. 
“Our mission was based on intel from October, to redirect enemy forces coming from Vanhoover.”
“That would be us, wouldn’t it...Great job you’ve done!” Fire Streak said, while the crowd of rebels erupted in laughter. 
Guardian continued groaning in pain, hoping to fall unconscious so that she didn’t have to live with it for much longer.
Fire Streak laughed to himself, bending his head down while Silver focused on maintaining her front of seriousness. 
“That’s a neat story, and it sounds nice to my ears, but...I don’t know, I’m still not sure...Mr. Jolly, do me a favor and package these two back up, keep them in one of the tents outside. We’ll deal with this again in the morning,” Fire Streak said. 
The crowd slowly began to disperse from the large, elegant second-story room of the town hall, Fire Streak still laughing to himself over his triumph over the enemy that had been a thorn in his side for the past few days. 
As Wood Chip came back to Guardian to free her from the cradle, she managed to glance at Silver one last time, managing a weak smile of approval for Silver’s delaying deception. But it only lasted a quick moment, before the world again turned to black. 

Silver was helpless as the trio of royal soldiers picked her up by her chair, carrying her on their backs as they exited the elegant top room of the Pine Hearth town hall. Due to the tight ropes, she could only barely turn to get a glimpse of Guardian, who was now unconscious sitting on the cradle, her body limp and her blue coat stained with crimson red blood. 
“You’re a bunch of cowards! You’ll get what’s coming for you, I swear it!” 
The rebel soldiers merely laughed, roughly carrying her out the door and down a flight of stairs. 
Exiting through the front door of the town hall lobby, Silver felt a blast of freezing wind and snow wash over her like a brick to the face. The violent storm had resurfaced, though now the rain had frozen into a mixture of snow and sleet. 
It was hell on earth, worsened by her shaky mental state. Having to watch her best friend be tortured to near-death, coupled with the knowledge that her fate could perhaps be even worse, made her sick to her stomach. 
She was dumped in a large tan tent built near the wooden battlements on the eastern end of the town, which housed a great deal of rebel soldiers. At least a few hundred.
Before she was thrown into the tent, she witnessed another group of rebels dragging a familiar pony, Periwinkle Radiance, whose face was pale with trauma.  They were dragging her by her hair, laughing as they made their way into another tent, presumably to commit more heinous acts that reminded Silver why she hated the enemy so much. 
Still bound in her chair, she was propped against the center wooden stake of the tent, the light of several lanterns nearby lighting up the tan tent, casting it in an orange hue. Inside the tent, there was little more than dirt and few boxes here and there, and certainly nothing that Silver could use to fix an escape. 
  Before she could really get her bearings, more rebels entered through the tent entrance, carrying a re-tied up Guardian, whose broken and bloodied wings were left  free from being bound, since they were virtually useless now. 
“Hey, watch this,” said one of the rebels, after dropping an unconscious Guardian to the ground, falling flat on her face in a heap. The rebel then stomped right onto her left wing with all his force, cracking a few more shattered tendons. 
Guardian suddenly woke up, gasping in pain.
“Stop!” Silver yelled, furiously trying to break free. 
The rebels all laughed, and proceeded to prop Guardian up against the pole, right beside Silver, tying them to the pole separately. 
“Marl, you’re first up,” said one of the rebels, to one of his companions. 
“Colonel said don’t touch ‘em, you’re gonna have to wait,” said another, snickering to himself as he eyed the semi-conscious, delirious Guardian.
Marl, a young rebel with light grey coat and feathery red hair, nodded in understanding, raising up his spear for both Silver and a distressed Guardian to see. 
“Don’t try anything,” he warned, though he seemed to be a little nervous about making threats. 
“Thatta boy,” said one of the rebels, as he and the others all left the tent. 
The flaps were left slightly open, Marls standing inside in front of the entrance. 
“Guardian?!” Silver asked, hoping Guardian was still alive.
Guardian groaned something that was meant to be a “yes.”
Before Silver could make sure Guardian was still with her, Marls suddenly turned around, as if he had forgotten to do something. 
“Last thing I need is to hear you two going on.”
He reached into a nearby box and pulled out two large strips of clothes, and headed back towards them.
“Wait, wait! Please! Please, you can just let us go, we’re useless to you, we can-” Silver attempted to say, before Marl took one of the large cloth strips and wrapped it around Silver’s face, silencing the desperate unicorn, and blindfolding her simultaneously. He did the same to the half-awake Guardian, though for her, he did seem to feel sympathy for, helping to sit her up better and positioning her so that her terribly injured wings weren’t being squished against the pole. Guardian’s head was completely limp in his hooves, while Silver at least attempted to make some sort of resistance. Now that Guardian was critically injured, Silver had to accept that it would be her alone who would have to get them out of this. With luck, and to Silver’s knowledge, the letter was still hidden inside Guardian’s helmet. Which meant, they still had a chance. 
But for now, she couldn’t do much, with her magic, ability to speak, and sight all being restricted. 
But she could still hear, which she took advantage of after about an hour of sitting in silence, when she heard hoofsteps in the snow make their way towards them.
“You’re outta here. Shift’s up,” said a stallion’s voice, one that Silver immediately recognized. 
She grunted into her gag, and attempted to nudge Guardian to get her attention. The pegasus was still only barely awake, stuck in a strange mental zone of combined pain and terror. 
“Who the hell are you? You’re not 4th,” Marl said, skeptically. 
“Pathfinders. I said you’re outta here, kid. Beat it.”
Marl hesitated, but reluctantly conceded, handing the new pony his spear and trudging off into the unsavory storm outside. 
After a few seconds of silence, Silver heard the rustling of the tent flaps closing, and the sound of their new guard approaching them. 
After some fidgeting, light returned to the world, as the guard untied the cloth from around Silver’s face. 
“You dirty, spineless coward!” Silver yelled, at the sight of Sundance, now wearing a polished, formal rebel uniform as opposed to his previous rough-worn armor. He seemed to be horrified with their predicament, and paid no notice to Silver’s namecalling, as he made his way down to Guardian, unfastening her gag and blindfold and backing away, slowly. 
“What have they done to you…” he muttered, disgusted. 
Guardian’s eyes blinked up towards him, and immediately she felt her heart weaken even more.
“You…You lied to me,” Guardian managed to say, her voice faint and drained of life. 
Sundance’s breathing drew short, beginning to feel guilt for possibly unintentionally causing their current condition. 
“So you were here, all along! You were leading us right into a trap!” Silver yelled. 
“Keep your voice down, unless you want somepony else to hear,” Sundance said, resuming his commanding tone. 
Guardian spat at his hooves, her mouth quivering from both the physical and emotional pain running through her body. 
“You’re just like the rest of them. Monsters,” Guardian said.
“I know you won’t believe me...but I’m telling the truth, I didn’t know they were here,” Sundance said.
“Bull!” Silver said.
“You let me go the night before this one, remember? And I flew north, that’s where I imagined I’d find my unit. But I was intercepted by a pegasi patrol, part of the Airborne Brigade. They took me here, they thought I was a royal in disguise. The Colonel nearly had me hanged, but I was lucky, there was an old friend from another unit I used to work with, he knew me. Look, I didn’t mean to lead you right to them, I know these ponies, I know Colonel Fire Streak. They have a...reputation. I wouldn’t have sent you here willingly, I wouldn’t have even sent my worst enemies! You showed me mercy, you spared my life. Whether I care to admit it or not...You certainly don’t deserve to die here of all places.”
Guardian wanted to believe he was telling the truth, though she couldn’t think too critically over anything with how exhausted and in pain she was. 
Sundance bent down beside Guardian and began untying the ropes from around her limbs, freeing her. He then helped the wounded pegasus stand up to her hooves. 
“What are you doing?” Guardian asked, shocked, barely able to move her weakened muscles.
“I’ve come to make us even. To return a favor,” Sundance said. 
“But...they’ll kill you for this,” Guardian said, confused as to what he was attempting to gain from freeing them. 
“I meant what I said, I didn’t know they were here,” he said again, hoping to be believed. And, despite Guardian still feeling betrayed, she was feeling more inclined to trust him.
He moved to Silver next, untying her ropes and freeing her from the chair. 
Immediately, Silver pounced up from her chair to try and strangle Sundance to death, but stopped first to watch Guardian collapse back to the ground, having fallen unconscious yet again from the pain of her wing-related injuries. 
Silver returned to Sundance, still intent on killing him. 
“I’m the only way you’re getting out of here alive! If you kill me, you and your friend are dead!” Sundance warned, waiting to see what she would do next. In truth, when he had heard of Guardian and Silver’s capture, he had only felt compelled to rescue Guardian alone, though he knew she would protest if he neglected to rescue her friend too. 
Silver stopped her approach, reluctantly deciding Sundance was right. 
“I never trusted you for a second. And I trust you even less now,” Silver said. 
“You don’t have to trust me, you just have to follow close behind me. Do you want your horn free?”Sundance said, nodding up at Silver’s restrained horn. 
“It’s padlocked,” Silver said, pawing at the uncomfortable metal cone fitting snugly around her horn. The device gave her a massive headache, as if someone was constantly swinging a golf club into her forehead. 
“Those types all use the same key, here,” Sundance said, grabbing a key from a ring tied around his belt. 
He approached a nervous Silver, who bent her head down to allow him better access to her horn. 
He stuck the small key inside the hole of the padlock, and, with a simple twist, the device came apart, and Silver could feel her head slowly return to normal. 
“Don’t try casting any spells for a few minutes, let the effects wear off.”
Silver rubbed her legs, which were still sore from rope burn, and glanced at the keeled over Guardian. 
“Alright. How do we get out of here?” Silver asked. 
“Follow me. Be quiet, and-” Sundance started. 
“Hold it. You’re carrying her, not me,” Silver said, narrowing her eyes. 
“Well that’s just not practical,” Sundance said, dryly. 
“I don’t care if it isn't practical. Once my magic comes back, I’ll cover us if things get dicey. She can’t fly, and she’s lost a lot of blood,” Silver said. 
“I can’t go all the way with you two, I’ll have to return here.”
“What a surprise. Does it look like I care what happens to you? If I had it my way you’d be set on fire and thrown in a pit of spikes. You’re damn lucky we need your help at all.”
“Does it really look like I’m not trying to help you both out here?” Sundance, said, annoyed with her verbal abuse.
“You rebels are all twisted in the head. No sane pony could do that to somepony else,” Silver said, nodding at Guardian’s mangled wings. 
“I never meant for this to happen, alright? I’m trying to save your lives here,” Sundance said. 
“If anything else happens to her, you’ll be the first pony I’ll be after.”
“Oh, like you two are such great friends anyway. All you do is bicker and complain!”
Silver stared at him, shocked by how brazen he was, given how close she was to killing him just a few seconds ago. 
“She’s my best friend, I just...I don’t know, this place is making monsters of all of us,” Silver said, recalling that unarmed rebel soldier she had killed all the way back at the mountain cabin. She had killed many ponies in her time on the front, but that one in particular had stuck with her, haunted her. 
“Some more than others,” she added, glaring at Sundance. 
Sundance, for all his self-acknowledged faults, still believed in the classical tenets of morality, namely that decent ponies didn’t deserve to suffer just because they were aligned with one group or the other, or that they were just in the way. It was that way of thinking that caused the death of his entire family and the destruction of his home. Despite how much he despised the royals, he couldn’t bring himself to hate indiscriminately, especially towards Guardian, who he had to admit had been decently generous in her kindness towards him. Though he still wasn’t a fan of Silver, and she was not a fan of him, together they now had a mutual dependency to protect Guardian. 
Silver’s horn suddenly started to glow, causing Sundance to back up in his tracks, uncertain what she was doing. 
“Wait….Think about this,” he said, raising his hoof up cautiously. 
She held her horn towards him, continuing to glow brighter and brighter. 
But, right before it seemed she was about to fire, her horn dimmed, and a condescending smirk grew on her face. 
“I guess it works now. Let’s go,” Silver said. 
Sundance grabbed Guardian by her front hooves, dragging her along the snow out of the tent, Silver quickly following behind. 
The thick onslaught of snow and rain came as an advantage, adding an additional layer of cover for the ponies’ escape.

Guardian drifted awake one last time, being carried by somepony else through the snowstorm somewhere outside. She made out a pony in the distance, who appeared to be Silver, though the night-covered dense snowfall was obscuring her vision, and her mind was very much on the fritz. Silver’s brightly glowing horn was a beacon in the night, firing in several directions. The distant sounds of screaming rebels and jangling of weapons, and the crinkling of snow-covered leaves beneath the her carrier’s hooves as he entered into the forests, were the last sounds she heard, before she again fell unconscious, dragged through the snow by Sundance, who was persistent in proving his efforts not to be in vain.